Ex Libris
by Strega Brava
Summary: **COMPLETE** Draco's obsession with revenge has unexpected results and now Severus and Hermione are trapped in the world of Jane Eyre. Will they be able to find a way back? SS/HG. To be considered AU and OOC to some degree.
1. Literary Journey

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR. This is an idea I have had kicking around for a while but wasn't sure how to go about writing. I intend to have a lot of fun with this story but that is not to say that I won't try to put forward a plausible plot and some good characterization…let's just say that I want to play with my two favourite characters in a way I know JKR never will.

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Chapter One: A Literary Journey

Hermione Granger sat at a table in the Leaky Cauldron studiously looking over her lesson plans for the upcoming school year. As she slowly sipped her glass of butterbeer, she revised and changed several topics for essays and assignments, particularly one involving a joint-assignment between her class, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. Smirking somewhat, she paused to think of what the Potions Master's reaction might have been when the Headmaster had put forward her request for such a task for the seventh year students. It could not have been pleasant.

She looked at the half full glass of butterbeer and sighed. It was really rather childish of her to think this way of a man who had fought as bravely as all the others, even if the others had always considered him an overgrown bat of the slimiest variety. He had certainly been honoured with the Order of Merlin that had eluded him so many years earlier but she doubted whether it meant anything to him now. His only satisfaction had been witnessing the Dementor's Kiss being administered to Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew, even if it meant acknowledging that Sirius Black had been innocent all along.

And now he was working diligently on a cure for lycanthropy even though countless wizards and witches, experts in the field, had told him time and time again that such a thing was impossible. It was sheer folly to think that he could succeed where so many others failed. Arrogant. Presumptuous. Naïve. She had heard the words being tossed around when discussing Severus Snape's newest goal in life. But Hermione did not share in these sentiments.

She understood.

He had been a spy for so long and had never been accorded the respect and the reputation that he truly deserved. His one wish was to see the Dark Lord defeated and that had come to pass. Without another seemingly impossible task to utilize the vast expanses of his experience and intellect, he would most certainly have ended up at St. Mungo's. The new experiments were vital to him…a way of passing the time in a world where Voldemort was not lurking behind every rock or hiding to strike with a Killing Curse.

She understood because she had felt the same way. After years of working together with Harry and Ron…

The tears began to blur her vision and she wiped them away angrily. Ron would not have wanted her to cry like this. He would have told her to keep her chin up and, if all else failed, retreat to the library. Hermione almost chuckled as she imagined Ron's whiny voice telling her that not all the answers to life's many mysteries could be found in a book.

For example, it could never explain why he had to die and she had to live.

She sighed once again and traced a finger along the rim of the glass slowly…making it sing a low mournful note.

"_I miss you, Ron_," she thought to herself, wishing for the umpteenth time that the feisty redhead was still around.

But life went on and she found that she could look back now and smile. She had many wonderful memories and she still had Harry.

"_Speaking of which, he is running late yet again_," Hermione glanced at the special hourglass on the counter that told the time and shook her head. It was very early and there were no other customers in sight.

A pair of hands suddenly covered her eyes and she smiled despite the initial sense of fright.

"Harry?"

A loud snort of disgust. "I hardly think so, Granger."

Hermione froze and tore the hands away from her face, turning to face a decidedly drunk Draco Malfoy, his silver-blonde hair mussed up and his breath smelling horribly like something decaying in the depths of Gringotts.

"What on earth do you think you're doing, Malfoy?" Hermione hissed at her former nemesis.

Draco sneered. "Oh, I don't know. Don't have much to do since you had my family destroyed, Granger."

"Your father murdered your mother and murdered my parents along with many other people I cared about," she glared at him in rage…trying hard to restrain the impulse to blast him into oblivion.

"My father did what he thought was right."

"And do you think he was right."

"As if I would tell you…you would throw me into Azkaban immediately."

"After what you did to Ron…"

"I didn't touch him…they tested my wand and I was questioned under Veritaserum…innocent, Granger. Completely innocent."

"An innocent Malfoy sounds suspiciously like an oxymoron," Hermione snapped.

"Do you know the meaning of such long words?" Draco drawled.

"Perhaps I should get you a dictionary?" Hermione countered, eyes blazing.

Draco scowled and took another long sip of his drink…something that smelled potent. He had obviously had had more than a few.

"Stupid Mudblood," he whispered. "I should have had you when I had the chance but Father would not have wanted to share his favourite…plaything."

Hermione paled when she remembered being captured by Lucius Malfoy and trapped in the dungeons of Malfoy Manor. Chained to a wall by a collar around her neck as if she were a dog. And Lucius…leering at her…taunting her…telling her that he killed her parents and laughing as she cried.

And that was not the worst of it.

"You piece of filth," she whispered in an icy voice.

He smiled at her and touched her hair, laughing cruelly when she pulled away in disgust. He came closer to her and the smell of him nearly made her eyes water. 

"I loved to watch, Mudblood. Did you know that? I laughed while you screamed and begged to be killed. He would have done it, you know but I convinced him otherwise. Wouldn't have wanted the show to end."

Hermione stood up and slapped him soundly across the face with the back of her hand; her mother's ring leaving a nasty looking cut on his cheek. He nearly fell backwards from the force of the blow.

"Why you meddlesome…" he lunged at her and grabbed her wrists. She screamed in pain and tried to break free…to get to her wand…to get him off of her…

"Expelliarmus!" 

Draco was sent flying by the force of the spell and smashed into the wall before collapsing in an inebriated and thoroughly undignified heap. Hermione fell to the ground as well and scrambled to get up. A hand presented itself to her field of vision. She looked up in amazement.

"Might I be of some assistance, Miss Granger?"

Professor Severus Snape stood looking down upon her in concern. She took his hand and stood up. He immediately walked over to where Draco was slumped and said many things to him in a harsh voice. Draco looked up, scowled and, at one point, looked absolutely terrified before nodding reluctantly and sitting down at a faraway table. The older man walked over to Tom and presented him with a handful of coins.

"Thank goodness it's too early for customers to be coming in," Tom wiped his brow. "Miss Granger is here most mornings just after I arrive but I don't normally get anyone else in until much later. I don't want no trouble with my regular customers, Professor Snape."

"Of course not, Tom. Mister Malfoy will be leaving shortly and, if he turns up here again, you will certainly let me know," Severus glanced at Draco who pointedly stared at a stain on the tabletop where he was sitting.

"Thank you, Professor. Is Miss Granger all right? You move faster than a cat…I was in the back making my famous shepherd's pie and preparing some sausages when I heard the commotion."

"I think something a little stronger than butterbeer might be in order," Severus glanced at Hermione who was shaking slightly but looked, on the whole, all right.

"A good shot of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey will do her good. She's a tough old girl…this will put the fighting spirit back into her."

Tom poured a small quantity of the amber coloured liquid into a tumbler and gave it to Severus.

"No charge, Professor. Compliments of the house. Poor thing…after what she's been through…least I can do…"

"Thank you, Tom. You are a beacon among innkeepers," Severus said sincerely as he walked back to where Hermione waited.

"This will help," Severus said simply as he gave her the glass. 

She sipped it tentatively; coughing slightly as the strong liquid made its way down her throat.

"I wish he were with his father," she muttered angrily.

"I share your sentiments but he somehow managed to avoid persecution for his crimes. Personally, I think he paid Fudge an inordinate quantity of Galleons to secure his release in return for testifying against his father who was, in actual fact, the greater prize for the Ministry to catch and convict."

Hermione took another sip, not coughing this time.

"What did he say to you?" Severus asked.

"I cannot tell you that," she muttered, a look of shame and disgust on her face.

Severus nodded in understanding. "You have been through a terrible ordeal…but you are here and you have a future ahead of you. Perhaps you have lost your innocent belief in happy endings but this is certainly a happier end than might have been expected."

"I still feel so…unclean…I wonder if it will ever go away," Hermione blushed suddenly. She had not meant to say that out loud but, judging from the sympathetic expression on the older man's face, she had.

"You will feel that way as long as you feel that he had the power to make you feel that way. You are not any less of a person for what happened to you. You did not have any choice," Severus pointed out.

Hermione smiled weakly.

"I suppose that is true but, for the moment, it is small comfort."

"A small comfort is a comfort nonetheless."

***********************************

Draco Malfoy watched in increasing anger as his Head of House chatted with the Mudblood, Granger. He could not hear the words being said and, quite frankly, did not want to. He did not want to hear anything…least of all the voice of the know-it-all who had destroyed his family.

He wanted revenge and he knew how he was going to go about it. A little something his father had taught him.

"She won't suspect a thing…trap her in the thing she loves most and then destroy it. Brilliance. Sheer brilliance," he thought to himself, an insane smile tracing across his face as he got up and made a dramatic show of stomping out of the Leaky Cauldron angrily. Once outside, he paused outside a small window and aimed his wand at the bookbag near Hermione's feet and cast a Dark Spell. The bookbag shimmered slightly and then returned to normal. Neither Hermione nor Severus noticed and Draco chuckled as he kept an eye on the two people.

"Soon, Mudblood. I will destroy you," he thought as he licked his lips in anticipation.

************************************

"I think I would like one more glass of this Firewhiskey, Professor," Hermione held up the empty glass.

"Severus, Hermione. You may call me by my first name if you like. After all, you will be a Professor at Hogwarts in September and, as such, my equal."

Hermione smiled. "I don't know if I can do that yet, Professor…but I will try."

Severus called Tom over for a pair of glasses of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey. Hermione pulled some money out of her money bag and handed it to the innkeeper. Severus was about to protest.

"No," she said firmly. "Chivalry is a wonderful thing but I will not take advantage of it, especially when I am already in your debt."

"I have said it before, Hermione. You are a strong woman to have been through so much and not to have broken."

"That is high praise coming from you."

"It is not praise, merely a statement in fact."

Hermione sipped the drink, savouring the warmth that reached the very tips of her toes. "You have never told me what you thought of my idea of a joint assignment between our respective subjects. Do you have any concerns?"

Severus put down his drink and steepled his fingers as he thought about it for a moment. 

"I believe," he finally answered, "that it is an idea that has sound principles and will generate some new and innovative ideas in how to use Potions to defend and protect rather than to harm, to heal or to kill."

"So, you did not launch a series of protests when the Headmaster relayed the idea to you?"

A wry glance from the Potions Master dismissed any concerns she might have had about his reluctance to participate in such an enterprise.

"As I said, Hermione," he continued as if he had not been interrupted, "the idea has sound principles and I will be most interested in the results."

Hermione felt much calmer now and hoped to head back to Hogwarts shortly where she had yet to organize her books and her personal effects.

"I think I would like to return to Hogwarts now, Professor," she said, standing up and picking up her bookbag. "Will you accompany me? I'd appreciate the company…if only to talk about Slytherin's slim chances at securing the House Cup this year."

Severus looked at her in some surprise. "Typical Gryffindor presumptuousness," he scoffed. "I think our chances are much better than yours."

Hermione led the way outside and blinked momentarily as the sunlight hit her eyes with its morning intensity. Stopping suddenly, she was jostled by Severus bumping into her, knocking the bookbag onto the pavement. One seam broke and a number of books fell out, littering the ground with covers of various colours.

"Oh dear," Hermione moaned as she stooped to start picking them up.

"Let me help you…you seem to have an awful lot of reading material packed into this one bookbag," Severus remarked. "You do realize that they have limitations?"

"Yes, unfortunately," Hermione sighed as she tried to pick up her notes and her quills.

Severus and Hermione were both crouched on the ground; absorbed in their task of picking up all the dropped articles when they both reached out to pick up one small volume. Their hands touched the small book at the same time.

And, in the blink of an eye…they both vanished.

Draco Malfoy, cackling gleefully, walked towards the abandoned bookbag and the lone book still lying on the pavement.

"_Now, I will cast this volume onto a nice bonfire and enjoy the thought of having destroyed the two people I despise the most_," he thought to himself as he approached. 

But, just as he was about to reach out for the book, another hand picked it up.

"Potter?!" Draco cried in disbelief. Harry nearly jumped as he took in Draco's disheveled appearance.

"Get out of my sight, Malfoy!" Harry yelled as he looked in the book and saw _'H. Granger'_ in neat script on the inside of the cover. He picked up the bookbag quickly and looked around for a moment. He disapparated.

No! He had been so close! It was so miserably unfair! It was the last straw and Draco Malfoy screamed incoherently as his last grasp of sanity slowly slipped….

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Hermione felt a tingle running along her arm and tried to pull back as she felt the unmistakable cold of a Dark Spell but could not. She watched in some fear as the street vanished into a silvery blur that seemed to rush by her with an ominous wooshing sound. Closing her eyes in an effort to hold the rising bile at bay, she was aware that she was not alone…Professor Snape was with her…

"_What is happening to us_?" She wondered in a panic.

It felt as if she were standing on a field and the wind was whipping past her at a furious pace. Her hair was ripped out of the neat bun she had arranged earlier in the morning and was now flapping freely. She opened her mouth to speak but could not…the rushing wind would not allow her the opportunity to make a sound.

"Where are we going?"

And then she felt as if she were falling…ever falling…deeper and deeper. She opened her eyes and again, could only make out a silvery blur. Only this time, she could see a dark shadow next to her. Wherever she was going, it appeared that Severus Snape would be accompanying her. She closed her eyes again before her stomach protested too violently.

Falling…falling…and then a soft thud, which knocked her onto her back. She lay there, stunned for several moments; afraid to open her eyes and discover what hell she had fallen into.

"Hermione…I think you should see this," Severus' voice seemed anxious but not fearful and Hermione took hope in that. She slowly opened her eyes and stood up in surprise.

Whatever it was that she was expecting, it was certainly not this.

They appeared to be in the English countryside, a church was off in the distance and a village could be seen. They, however, were outside a set of gates, beyond which wound a drive towards a great house.

"We seem to have changed somewhat," Severus' voice turned her around to where yet another surprise awaited her.

He had changed. Specifically, his clothes had changed to…something very Muggle but very old.

"You look like a country gentleman from the 1800's," she said in shock.

"Look at yourself," he replied in a surly tone, looking at himself and scowling.

Hermione looked and saw that she was wearing a plain dress of some nondescript grey material, a mantle and a muff. It was then she realized that it was quite cold…winter, in fact.

A horse made its presence known and Severus took a step towards it and grunted in pain.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, rushing towards him and nearly stumbling over the hems of her rather voluminous skirts.

"I think I have sprained my ankle," he muttered, wincing as he felt the affected part.

Hermione pulled out her wand. "At least we have not lost these." She quickly performed a basic spell for relieving pain and swelling.

"Much better, thank you," Severus walked around a bit.

"Where do you think we are?" Hermione asked, shivering slightly from the cold.

"I have no idea. I suggest we walk over to the great house over there and ask someone how to return to London," Severus walked up to the gate and opened it. He then walked back to the horse and mounted it with the air of one who had done that sort of thing many times before. He held out a hand to Hermione and helped her up in front of him. They trotted through the gate and down the drive.

When they reached the house, they dismounted and walked towards a side door. Hermione knocked.

Within moments, a prim and proper older woman appeared. She was dressed in a black silk gown over which was spread a lovely white muslin apron. On her head, a black widow's cap. Her expression brightened when she saw them.

"Thank goodness you have returned…I was getting so worried about you. Now come in and warm yourselves. I warrant a little brandy might be in order to drive out the chill," the woman hurried them in and directed them to a lovely, if rather masculine, parlour.

"Do you know us, Madame?" Severus asked as a dog began to jump up on him in delighted frenzy.

"Know you? Why Mr. Rochester, I think the cold has touched your mind a wee bit. Not know you and Miss Eyre? Merciful heavens what a thought. I'll be back in an instant with a brandy for both of you."

And with that, the venerable woman left them in a state of complete disbelief.

"What is she talking about?" Severus stormed around the room. Hermione's eyes widened as she realized what had happened to them.

"Malfoy! It had to be him! I don't believe it!" She shouted.

"What are you talking about?"

"My book…we have somehow fallen into my book." Hermione sank into a chair and began breathing heavily.

"Which book have we fallen into?" Severus asked worriedly.

"Jane Eyre."

A/N: Yes, anything else you recognize belongs to yet another goddess, Charlotte Bronte


	2. Thornfield: A History

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to either of two goddesses: JKR or Charlotte Bronte. Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews and yes, I had heard the comparison between Severus/Hermione and Jane/Rochester many times and had often wondered about how to bring the two worlds together. This is what I came up with. The plot will not follow that of Jane Eyre…I am not about to rewrite a classic. 

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Chapter 2: Thornfield - A History

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**************Outside the gates of Hogwarts***********************

There was a slight popping sound as Harry apparated into plain view. He looked at the book in his hands and shook his head in disbelief.

"They were both touching it when they vanished," he whispered as he hurried towards the castle as fast as he could go.

Pounding on the door, he was met by an angry-looking Filch.

"What be the meaning of this, boy? You're going to knock the door down. Just because you're no longer a student don't give you the right to…"

"Filch, just pipe down and listen to me. Is the Headmaster in? It's urgent!"

Filch looked at him with disdain. "Urgent, is it? Well, the Headmaster is in but you had best be quick about it as he is off to London shortly."

Harry rushed past the surly custodian and made his way to the Headmaster's office. Staring blankly at the gargoyle, he realized that he did not know the current password.

It did not matter for, at that very moment, the door opened and Albus Dumbledore came into the hallway.

"Harry! Well, this is a pleasant surprise. What are you doing sneaking around the hallways of Hogwarts? I can't imagine that you are so homesick," the older man beamed at his former student.

"I need to speak with you…something has happened and I don't know what to do. Can we go into your office? I don't wish to speak so openly," Harry's face showed his concern and the Headmaster became serious immediately and showed him through the door.

Once in the office, Harry deposited the bookbag on the ground and gave the novel to the Headmaster.

"Ah yes, 'Jane Eyre'. An excellent example of 19th century British Muggle fiction I daresay. Although I fail to see its importance."

Dumbledore sat down on a chair and invited Harry to do the same. Harry nearly cried out with impatience as the older man leafed through the book thoughtfully.

"I was on my way to the Leaky Cauldron as I was meeting Hermione there…I was running a bit late."

"Most unfortunate…Miss Granger is always so punctual."

"Yes, well when I arrived she was outside with Professor Snape."

"Severus was supposed to pick up a few textbooks for the coming school year," Dumbledore's voice sounded very calm and relaxed as he reread a particular part of the novel.

"Hermione's bookbag had fallen and broken…as you can see…and her books and quills had spilled all over the pavement. Professor Snape was assisting her in picking everything up."

Dumbledore chuckled. "So the man has finally discovered his manners. That is something to celebrate."

"I don't believe so, Headmaster. They were both reaching for that little book there when…well, they simply vanished."

Dumbledore turned to Harry quickly, a quizzical expression in his eyes.

"Vanished? Vanished where?"

"I don't know, Headmaster. I almost got the impression that they had been sucked into the book…but that is not possible…is it?"

Dumbledore stood up and looked at the book from every conceivable angle. He stroked his beard thoughtfully as he put the book down and pulled out his wand.

"Priori Incantetum," he murmured softly as he waved his wand over the book. A silvery mist rose from the pages and swirled around aimlessly before coalescing into one shape...

"Malfoy," Harry whispered angrily.

They watched as the shadowy figure cast a spell and dissipated to be replaced by two other figures: 

"Well, there are our two missing persons," Dumbledore said quietly, concern etched in his face.

"They are dressed in strange clothes…where are they?" Harry asked, scratching his head.

Dumbledore took off his glasses and cleaned them with a bit of his robes before putting them back on and looking at the book intently.

"They are in grave danger, Harry."

"Why?"

"Because Mister Malfoy has them trapped…trapped in this very book."

"How on earth did he manage to do that?"

"Dark Magic…fuelled by a desire for vengeance. A very old spell…the Libris spell which causes a person to be lost in a book. Once inside the book, the person is vulnerable…very vulnerable…"

Harry did not like the look on Dumbledore's face at all. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that if anything were to happen to the book…Hermione and Severus would be lost to us…forever."

Harry blanched at the thought. He had already lost one of his best friends in the battle against Voldemort…he did not plan on it happening again.

"We have to protect the book at all costs…it has to stay here at Hogwarts. Now I understand why Malfoy was there. He wanted the book to finish what he had started. I'll kill him…I swear I will…"

Dumbledore turned on Harry angrily. "Do not swear to do anything…you do not wish to be bound by oaths that will only cause you greater suffering. Leave this to me. In the meantime, you must contact Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, as they know the most about the worst sort of Dark Magic. I suggest a look at the bookstores in Knockturn Alley…Sirius will know where to go."

"You do not know how to get them out?" Harry asked, the knot in his stomach tightening.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly as he began casting protective spells on the book.

Harry rushed out of the office, leaving the Headmaster alone with the book and his own troubled thoughts.

"Be careful…both of you," he whispered brokenly to the open pages.

**********************************************

The fireplace crackled merrily but did nothing to lighten the mood in the parlour.

"So, we are trapped in a universe created by a Muggle authoress of the 19th century. This explains our peculiar dress but little else," Severus growled as he paced back and forth.

"Are you familiar with any spell that might have gotten us in here?" Hermione asked.

"Unfortunately, yes. This is an example of the Libris Spell…a convenient piece of Dark Magic that was used as a tool for revenge. Trap someone you didn't care for in a favourite book and then burn the book. You did not kill the person, merely removed them permanently."

Hermione gaped at him. "You mean we could be trapped in here forever if something happens to the book?"

Severus stopped and looked at her. "Precisely."

"Now I understand how Meleagher felt," she sighed, resting her head in her hands.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A story from Greek mythology. A young man was granted a sort of immortality whereby he would live as long as a particular log remained unconsumed by fire. Unfortunately, he upset his mother and she tossed said log on the fire and he died."

"Was that an attempt to cheer my spirits?"

Hermione chuckled and looked up at him. "You do realize that there is a very good possibility that Malfoy has already consigned my poor novel to the flames."

"I do but I believe there are at least two other ways to break the spell…I have to think…it's something I will have to think about as I heard about it a long time ago," Severus sat down on an adjacent chair. "My apologies…I believe my actions antagonized Malfoy enough to lash out at you."

"Your actions had nothing to do with this," she replied quietly.

They sat in silence for a few moments when the older woman bustled back in with a silver tray carrying a crystal decanter and two snifters. She placed them on a small end table.

"That will be all, Mrs. Fairfax. Thank you very much. Mr. Rochester and I have a matter of some urgency to discuss and he will ring for you when needed," Hermione said in a very demure tone.

Mrs. Fairfax curtsied and left the room, not without a strange glance at the young woman.

"You will have to tell me about this world, Hermione. I am not an avid reader of Muggle fiction," Severus stood up and walked over to where the refreshments were. He poured a drink for himself and Hermione. Walking back he handed a glass to her which she accepted gratefully. "That, I would assume, is Mrs. Fairfax…a housekeeper?"

"Yes, a good woman in her own right…very much a proponent of what is proper but has a decided soft spot for both you and me," Hermione smiled, downing her drink in one gulp.

"And what exactly are we?"

"You are a country gentleman…a landowner of some wealth. I am an orphan, trained to be a governess."

"A governess for whom?"

"You have a ward…Adèle. She is not your child but you once were friendly with her mother."

"I see. What else?"

"Well, you have an awful temper sometimes and you don't communicate particularly well. You are sometimes overbearing…sometimes tortured and you have much darkness in your past."

"It sounds as if you are describing me and not this Rochester character."

"Well, now that you mention it, I suppose you could say there are some striking similarities between the two of you. But there are differences…stark differences."

"Such as?" Severus refreshed his drink but Hermione shook her head when he pointed to her glass.

"He is willing to break the law in the name of self-justification and I know that, although you have worked as a spy for Dumbledore all these years, you would never do something like that. You are a man of great honour and abide by your own principles," Hermione said this rather quickly.

"And what happens to these two characters?"

"Many things…it's really rather embarrassing…I'd rather not say. Besides, it is not as if we are trapped in the plot…merely the universe," Hermione muttered.

"That makes me feel ever so much better," Severus replied sarcastically. Hermione glared at him.

"Come, Hermione. We must consider the problem in a logical matter. Even in this universe there must be a Hogwarts as there has been a Hogwarts for many hundreds of years. If it is hidden from the modern day Muggles, I am sure it is hidden from the Muggles in this universe," Severus continued.

"That is not logical in the least. This is a Muggle universe…there is no magic in it…only our two wands!"

"Which, if we follow your train of thought, should not work at all…but they do. My ankle is proof."

He was right. She had been able to perform a spell.

"We have to contact a witch or wizard but we don't have an owl with us," Hermione got up and looked out the window. "But there are some homing pigeons near the dovecote.

"I can put a locating spell on them to find someone who can perform magic and will enchant the parchment to only be read by such a person," Severus produced a sheet of paper and a fountain pen from the pockets of his jacket and wrote a short note. "What is the name of this place, Hermione?"

"Thornfield…and when we are around the others, you had best call me Jane. I will do the same."

"I don't look anything like a Jane, Hermione," Severus replied blandly.

"You know what I meant, you overgrown bat," Hermione huffed.

Severus smirked and finished writing, rolling up the parchment and casting his wand to create a concealment spell.

"You cannot go out now," Hermione clamoured. "It will be too obvious. We don't know if there are other characters here that wish us harm. Best to go after nightfall."

Severus nodded in agreement.

"Yes, that would be the most prudent course of action. So, we wait for the time being. Is there anything else I should know about the story and the characters? How does it end?" Severus held up his glass to the firelight and watched the many reflections cast by the swirling liquid.

Hermione blushed slightly and pondered what to say.

"Hermione?" Severus was looking at her curiously. 

"It's a bittersweet ending…one I have always loved but, now that I am here, I am glad that we do not have to abide by the plot as I don't think it would please you," Hermione stammered slightly.

"What are you babbling about? What would not please me? Being stuck here does not please me. The fact that my very existence in my own world is dependent on the state of some Muggle piece of fiction does not please me. I highly doubt that the plot could be any worse than that," Severus grumbled.

"Well, when you put it in that context, you are right, I suppose," Hermione replied slowly. "All right. You have a mad wife that very few people know about. I do not…not yet."

"Go on," Severus encouraged sarcastically.

Hermione glared at him. "You really can be an insufferable man, Severus Snape!"

"At least we have dispensed with the formalities," he smirked.

"Your mad wife gets killed when Thornfield catches fire and…you try to save her but to no avail. Then…well, Jane and Rochester get married. But not before she runs away, almost marries someone else and inherits a large sum of money from a relative she never knew she had."

Severus looked at her blankly. "Well, the unknown relative was a nice touch…very fortuitous. I think I liked everything up until that point."

"You…you did?"

"I may have to actually read this novel to discover how the authoress pulled everything together so neatly," Severus walked over to her. "So, you say that Jane and Rochester get married?"

"Yes."

"It stands to reason then that there is a relationship that slowly builds throughout the novel." 

"Well, yes…otherwise it would hardly be believable. Love does not happen that fast," she protested.

"No, it does not. How would describe their relationship, Hermione?"

"Intense. Full of feeling. Full of love…unbridled passion. Very un-Victorian and…most inappropriate, given the fact that you are married," she felt somewhat awkward describing one of her favourite books in such terms to this man in particular. 

"I am not married, Hermione." His voice was low and soft…so soft that, for a moment, she doubted if he had spoken the words out loud at all. She looked at him and saw that he was gazing on her intently.

For a moment, Hermione felt lost in the obsidian darkness of his eyes. She suddenly found herself wondering just how much brandy he had drunk…for that matter, how much had she drunk herself. For a moment, she let her eyes wander over a face that could never be called handsome in the traditional sense. Lips were thin, but not too thin. Eyes black as midnight. Skin that was pale…far too pale. A nose that even the most generous of hearts could hardly call aquiline. 

"_But, somehow…there is something in there that is…darkly fascinating…intriguing_," she thought as he stood up in concern and walked over to her.

"Hermione? Are you all right?"

But, as he began to close the distance between them, Hermione suddenly felt suffocated, felt a million hands clamouring over her…could hear the disdainful laughter of Lucius Malfoy as he forced her to watch what he was doing to her.

"No! Get away from me! Get away from me!" she whispered harshly as she pushed Severus away, knocking him onto the floor.

"Hermione, what is it? I was only…" Severus' eyes widened when he realized what must have happened and cursed himself a thousand times for thoughtlessness. She was curled up on the floor now, trembling and crying.

Severus did not try to get closer, afraid that she would bolt entirely if he did. "I should not have done that, Hermione. I was only...I had forgotten that you…you might not…" Severus sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"He did so many awful things to me," she whispered, not able to look up at him. "I have never been able to get his eyes out of my mind…get the sound of his laughter out of my ears. Even when Harry hugs me or Molly gives me a small kiss on the cheek…it nauseates me. Physical closeness is not something I can easily bear. Sometimes it makes me panic. I am so sorry."

"There is no need for you to apologize to me. It is I who cannot apologize enough. I will do all I can to ensure that it will not happen again," Severus stood up and held out his hand to her. She took it and stood in front of him.

"You are safe with me, Hermione. You know that, do you not?"

Yes, she knew she was safe with him. Had it not been the dour Potions Master, seemingly unkind and uncaring, who had managed to save her from Lucius? She had remembered that the elder Malfoy had left her on the floor, naked and bleeding when she had somehow passed out. The next thing she remembered was being clothed and bundled onto a broomstick, being tightly held by the man in front of her…although she could not be entirely certain whether or not she dreamed that part of it. The next image was of his concern for her in the Hogwarts infirmary…many days and nights spent repairing the damage done to her mind and body.

Obviously, there were scars that had not yet healed.

"I know, Severus," she replied with a small smile.

He returned the small smile with some relief. It was obvious that her reaction had caught him by surprise. She found herself feeling glad that she was not trapped alone in this place and firmly ignored the feeling she had had before when their eyes had locked.

A feeling she had never felt before and would give almost anything to feel again.

She watched as Severus walked towards the fireplace and stared into the flickering flames thoughtfully.

"_Those clothes…somehow they look very nice on him, but…out of place_," she thought. He did look rather different without his robes billowing dramatically as he walked. She almost giggled at what the dear Mrs. Fairfax would say to having a wizard in the house…or a witch for that matter.

"You said that the character has a mad wife?" He suddenly turned to her.

"Yes…but there are only two or three characters who know about her," Hermione was puzzled by this new line of questioning. "Why do you ask?"

"Witches and wizards have often hid behind the veil of insanity in order to avoid being prosecuted for witchcraft. This mad woman might, in fact, be a witch," he replied, still staring into the fire.

"Do you think she could help us? She really does not like your character very much," she murmured.

"If she is a witch, she will realize that I am not Rochester. I will go tonight…you will show me the way after everyone is asleep," Severus turned around and looked at her pleadingly. "I mean, I would be pleased to accept any assistance you can offer me…you know this universe far better than I do."

Hermione nodded, accepting the untold apology.

"I will ring for Mrs. Fairfax. It is time you met some other characters," she smiled as she indicated a rope that rung the housekeeper's bell.

"Thank you…Jane."

__

A/N: I am having far too much fun with this story. I have not planned it out…am winging it as we go. However, this will not be a terribly long story and will give me a bit of practice for my next chaptered Severus/Hermione story which I should be starting before the end of August.


	3. The Magnificent, Marvelous Mad Madame Ro...

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or the divine Ms Charlotte Bronte. All I can lay claim to is the convoluted plot, such as it is. The chapter title comes from Disney's "The Sword in the Stone".

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Chapter 3: The Magnificent, Marvelous Mad Madame Rochester

Severus was frustrated with his attire, their predicament and the fact that Mrs. Fairfax was something like a female version of Albus - nice enough in small, measured doses but could truly set your teeth on edge. 

"That woman is the most singularly bothersome person I have ever had the misfortune to meet," he vented after dinner. 

Hermione was rather amused to see her former professor, seemingly the epitome of grave reservation, pacing furiously and expounding loudly on the faults of said woman. She was grateful he had placed a silencing spell on the room. 

"She is devoted to you, you know," she smiled as she poured a small glass of brandy for herself. "Brandy?" 

"Just leave me the bottle, Hermione," he groused as he looked out the window. 

Hermione frowned at that. "You know that drinking yourself into a stupor will not help our situation." 

"It will give me a temporary reprieve from this madness," he snapped, resting a hand on the window and glaring at the night sky. 

Hermione did not like to see him so despondent. It was hard enough to keep her spirits up in the face of such obstacles. She decided on a different tack. 

"It could have been much worse," she ventured lightly, trying to break his somber mood. 

"How so?" he asked sharply. "You could have been trapped here with Harry," she smirked as she sipped her drink. 

He snorted loudly and turned to her with incredulous eyes. She was shocked to see that he was smiling...well, it was almost a smile...technically the upward turn at the corners of his mouth would constitute a smile. 

"I highly doubt, " he drawled, "that Potter would have looked as fetching in that dress."

And Hermione, who was almost never at a loss for words, found herself unable to reply…taking another sip of the brandy to mask her awkwardness.

There had not been much conversation after that…merely an agreement to meet later that night when the other members of the household were asleep.

No kiss…no embrace…nothing.

Hermione wasn't quite sure what to make of the situation in which they now found themselves. It wasn't as if they were in any physical danger and the setting itself was quite charming and quaint. It just…brought to the surface feelings that she had long thought buried and forgotten.

She had never been a flighty girl who delved into romantic fantasies. She had never engaged in much of the teenage hormone-driven gossip that had plagued many of her friends. Hermione had always thought of herself as sensible, realistic and practical.

But that all changed one day…when she began to have those dreams.

She blamed it on loneliness. She attributed it to the fact that she had never allowed herself the luxury of love and this was her mind's way of fulfilling those secret desires.

But, she thought to herself afterwards, she never would have imagined that her secret desires involved Severus Snape.

Then again, why had she been so surprised? After all, they did have a lot in common once one set aside his sarcastic sense of humour, his rather monotonous choice of attire (elegant as it might be) and the fact that all Hogwarts students and most other people were terrified of him.

Oh yes, loads of things in common.

Hermione almost smiled. Ever practical, she had quickly realized that she was in love with the surly Potions Master and then methodically catalogued that bit of self-realization under "Things I Am Not Going to Deal With Right Now."

But he did look so wonderful in those Muggle clothes…would it really be so wrong to wish…

A knocking at her door roused Hermione from her thoughts. Blushing slightly, she threw a wrap over her plain shift and, picking up a chamber lamp, opened the door.

Severus stood there looking somewhat uncomfortable in a red and gold dressing gown over a white shirt and black trousers. He was holding a chamber lamp as well.

"I have charmed all the house occupants on the main levels to sleep but it would be best if we were quiet," he whispered.

Hermione nodded, glad that her blush would not be noticeable in the quasi darkness of the hallway. She set her lamp down on a small table and followed him, closing the door quietly behind her.

"Give me your hand…I don't want you to stumble," he said quietly. She acquiesced and tried not to show any reaction to the warmth of his hand covering hers.

They made their way along the corridor and up a flight of stairs. There was a doorway

"Which way do we go from here?" Severus asked. "You know the geography better than I do."

"Through this small passage…there is a door…locked at its end," Hermione whispered, shivering slightly.

"Don't be afraid, Hermione. We will find a way home," he murmured, turning to look at her with an intensity that made her wish the room were even darker.

"I know we will," she said, proud that her voice did not waver. A quick squeeze of the hand and they walked towards the door in question.

Releasing Severus' hand, Hermione pulled out her wand. "Alohomora," she whispered. The lock opened quietly.

They walked into the room and, in the dim light of a flickering candle, noticed that there was a woman fast asleep on the floor and snoring deeply with an empty tankard next to her.

"Ah, and here is my dearly beloved husband…or so it would appear to an eye less keen than my own," a rich, earthy voice boomed out of the semi darkness. "Lux."

The room was instantly bathed in gentle light. Hermione blinked and then saw Mrs. Bertha Rochester…tall, handsome and very aristocratic in appearance.

"You know that I am not your husband, Madame," Severus bowed respectfully. Hermione curtsied.

"Yes, unfortunately. If Edward were more like you…well, that is another matter entirely. Your heart belongs to another. Please…sit down," Bertha said, waving her wand and making a round table and three chairs appear.

Severus, looking somewhat uncomfortable at that statement, sat down. Hermione sat beside him setting the chamber lamp down and ignoring a curious pang in her heart as she briefly wondered to whom his heart belonged and cursed them to perdition.

"You have been brought here by a misguided enemy," Bertha began speaking and Hermione was immediately reminded of the fortunetellers at the autumn fairs. "He seeks to destroy you but you are fortunate as another has intervened."

"Harry!" Hermione turned to Severus. "He was supposed to meet me…he must have picked up the book."

"And, knowing how predictable our dear Mr. Potter is, he went scampering off to see the Headmaster," Severus sighed. "Well, I am pleased that he did not merely toss the book aside…shows he has some grain of culture in him."

Hermione grinned at Severus cheekily. 

"They cannot help you return to your world," Bertha continued, staring at them both with flames of madness dancing in her eyes.

"Is there anyone here who can help us?" Hermione asked.

"I am sorry but there is not," Bertha replied.

"Then we are stuck here for eternity?" Severus whispered, his expression taut.

"I did not say that. There is a way for you to break the spell," Bertha stood up and walked over to the woman on the floor. "You just can't find good help these days."

"How do we break the spell?" Hermione asked, a note of urgency in her voice.

Bertha turned to her with an expression of compassion and…was that envy?

"I cannot tell you that. I am bound by certain oaths and this is one of them. You must discover the means to return on your own."

"That is not particularly helpful, Madame," Severus massaged his temples fiercely.

"I realize that this is not what you wished to hear but it is all I can tell you…except for one thing. You have an enemy here. I do not know who it is but you must be careful," Bertha walked over to Severus and placed a hand on his shoulder. "It is not the one who trapped you here…it is someone else…someone who will stop at nothing to keep you here."

"Who could that be?" Hermione asked, her eyes straying nervously to that hand on Severus' shoulder.

"I haven't the faintest idea," Severus replied tiredly.

"If I become aware of anything that might assist you and that I am allowed to tell you, rest assured that I will," Bertha walked over to the door and opened it in a clear gesture of dismissal.

Hermione and Severus both rose and walked out.

"Thank you. You are not what I expected," Hermione said honestly as she curtsied.

"I suppose not," Bertha replied, laughing. She then came close to Hermione and whispered, "sometimes you never know what form your most secret desire can take."

Hermione blushed and hurried out the door.

"Madame," Severus said formally, bowing.

"Sir, you desire something you believe to be beyond you. I can assure you that it is not," Bertha whispered in Severus' ear.

He gaped for a moment and then hurried out the door as well, closing it behind him and breathing deeply in an effort to steady his nerves.

There was a short silence as the two refugees looked at one another.

"She is…rather surprising," Hermione finally said.

"Quite. Well, we have discovered that we have an enemy but we know not who it is and there is a way out of here but we have to discover it for ourselves. It seems that these characters want to make it fiendishly difficult for us," Severus muttered.

"We have work to do in the morning…we had best get some sleep," she yawned, realizing suddenly that she was very tired.

"I will accompany you to your room. Am I right to assume that this is something the real Mr. Rochester would have done?" Severus held out his arm to Hermione, which she took.

"The more I think about the two of you…" and Hermione stopped for a moment, realizing she had just given herself away that she _had_ been thinking about him. "I mean…in the present context…comparing the character to you. There are some similarities of appearance and perhaps of temperament but there are many differences. I mean, I cannot imagine Edward Rochester stomping around the manor in billowing black robes like an overgrown bat and threatening to take points from the housekeeper."

Perhaps it was the brandy that drove Severus to ask the next question.

"And which do you prefer, Hermione?"

And that same brandy made Hermione reply in all honesty.

"You, Severus."

Thankfully, the brandy did not force either of them to say anything further. 

__

***************Back at Hogwarts*****************

Harry waited in the rooms that the Headmaster had so kindly lent to him for his stay at Hogwarts. Given the circumstances, the venerable Head of Hogwarts had postponed his trip to London and had remained with the younger man in hopes of being some assistance in the problem that had come up.

"They should be here by now," Harry exclaimed, pacing furiously back and forth. "Why are they late?"

Harry had sent an owl to Sirius and Remus explaining the situation and asking for their help. They had quickly replied that they would be there as quickly as possible but to Harry, it wasn't quickly enough.

"It's because of Snape," Harry huffed. "If it had been only Hermione in danger, they would have been here a lot sooner."

"That is hardly a fair assessment, Harry," Dumbledore remonstrated gently while sipping a mug of cocoa.

"They've never gotten along," Harry grumbled.

"While I agree that there is little love lost among them, they are no longer enemies. Sirius recognizes that Severus had an important part to play in the final battle against the Dark Lord…something, I dare say, that Remus knew all along. Severus, for his part, has acknowledged his error in believing Sirius guilty of the crimes committed by Peter Pettigrew."

"I just wish they would hurry," Harry grumbled as he paced.

"Is this soon enough, Harry?" Sirius stepped into view, closely followed by Remus.

"What do we do?" Remus walked over to the Headmaster, concerned at a look of defeat in the older man's eyes.

"All we can do is wait. It would appear that, short of guarding this book, there is precious little we can do," Dumbledore said sadly as Harry slumped into a wing chair.

"Blast!" Sirius shouted.


	4. Facing Demons

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or the divine Ms Charlotte Bronte. The convoluted plot is mine.

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Chapter 4: Facing Demons

Severus Snape was not happy with himself. In fact, he had long since consigned himself to some nefarious category which included the likes of Cornelius Fudge and a thousand bemused and befuddled Hufflepuffs.

__

"What, in the name of Merlin's beard, was I thinking?" he thought to himself as he sat on his bed, a glass of water in his hand.

__

He had practically raced Hermione back to her room, bid her a perfunctory good night and closed the door before she even had a chance to respond. Leaning against the door, he had closed his eyes and tried to get his racing heart under control. He could hear the small sounds of her getting ready for bed. Obviously, she had not been troubled about their previous exchange.

So, why was he?

"Why indeed?" He muttered under his breath as he stood up and walked over to the large window in his bedroom. He had not yet changed into Rochester's night clothes but stood, silhouetted in moonlight, in black trousers and a plain white shirt…the very Gryffindor-like robe long having graced the floor.

A rather sad and solitary figure.

The encounter with Bertha Rochester had unnerved him. He had come into contact with many sorts of people in the wizarding community but never someone who crackled with magical energy the way she had. That slight touch of her hand on his shoulder…he thought his skin was burning. Unconsciously, he rubbed at the spot now. It reminded him of that other mark that once burned…

"Damn that woman," He cursed.

Even Hermione had felt something of the raw power of the witch. Of that, he was certain. Her reaction to Bertha's words…especially something the older witch had whispered to her as they were leaving…he wasn't entirely sure if it was fear, surprise, shock or a muddled combination of all three.

Yes, Bertha was a witch with formidable power but bound to be merely a spectator. Not much help at all when it came right down to it. It made him wonder if everyone would be bound by similar conditions. He sincerely hoped not.

"Why can I not remember the way to get out of here?" He mused aloud, returning to his previous activity of pacing furiously. The fact that Bertha had casually mentioned an enemy had caught him off guard. Obviously, the environment was not as innocent and pastoral as had first appeared. There was darkness here as well and they were in danger.

Was it possible for someone to have followed them here? Bertha had effectively negated the idea of that whelp of a Malfoy being further involved. Who else could want to hurt them?

Really, it made no sense at all.

Taking a sip of the water, Severus realized that what confounded him the most was this feeling of being helpless. This did not sit well with him at all. He was well used to taking care of himself. Had he not survived working as a spy not once but twice? Came to within a hair's breadth of death many times and still somehow managed to walk away? 

He thought that the defeat of the Dark Lord would bring him peace. He felt that he had earned that much. What he did earn were a couple of shiny trinkets from the Ministry of Magic…a reward for his efforts to defeat Voldemort. Trinkets he had methodically placed in a box and thrown deep into a trunk in his rooms at Hogwarts, never to see the light of day again. His only satisfaction was watching the souls of Lucius Malfoy and Peter Pettigrew being sucked out for a Dementor's pleasure. Especially Lucius…for what he had done to her…

The other honours meant nothing to Severus. The Ministry was still populated by fools and simpletons. There were precious few that he tolerated and fewer still that he respected.

Severus sipped the water again, the cool feeling easing his parched throat.

Had she suspected something? Had Hermione wondered about Bertha's words about his heart?

"By the stars, I hope not," he muttered, going over to the window once again. It had been his fault that Lucius had captured Hermione. His former friend wondered why Severus continually balked at the Dark Lord's wish that she be eliminated. And so, Lucius decided to see what all the fuss was about and kidnapped her…tortured her…humiliated her in a manner that was extreme even for Lucius' vile tastes.

Really, the Dementor's Kiss was too light a sentence for the fiend.

Fate was truly a capricious mistress in Severus' opinion. To be trapped here with the only woman who had ever managed to thaw the icy cold exterior to his heart…and who had been savaged only because his own actions were seen as suspect . If he had been better able to play the role…perhaps the Draught of Living Death…a ruse to fool the Dark Lord into believing she was dead.

But there had been no time. His only consolation was that he had managed to find her, despite the reinforced wards Lucius had put up around the manor. He found her. Not Potter. Not Weasley (although, in his heart of hearts, he missed the feisty redhead). No, it had been him. But she had also saved him as well…convinced him not to use the Killing Curse although he doubted very much that she remembered that. She had been drifting in and out of consciousness at that point. 

But he listened…and they were both saved. Yes, the prince saved the princess, the princess saved the prince, the evil serpent king was destroyed and everyone lived happily ever after.

Not terribly likely.

While he was not one to habitually wallow in the pit of lovelorn angst, he had very reasonably conceived of many reasons why such an attachment would be impractical, unreasonable and unrealistic.

People's Exhibit One. Age and Appearance. Severus, on a whim, decided to look into the large cheval mirror in the corner of his large room. He looked at himself appraisingly. Perhaps one could be charitable and might make the comment that he was aging well. Balderdash. He looked old…felt even older and, next to her…was positively ancient. He was far too thin…his appetite had never been particularly healthy. Despite the fact that he was not now in danger of being cursed into oblivion at every turn, he still had a haunted look to him. And his hair still hung down around his shoulders…he would never cut it shorter than that.

But he rather liked his nose.

People's Exhibit Two. A Not Very Nice Past and a Barely Tolerable Present. Despite the fact that he had done all he could to bring down the Dark Lord, he was still looked on with suspicion and, in some cases, barely repressed hatred. He knew very well that Cornelius Fudge cursed the day he was forced to give an order of Merlin to Severus Snape. How could anyone truly look beyond the fact that he had made such a terrible mistake so long ago?

Severus absently rubbed his left forearm.

"I was like a head of cattle, branded for all to see to whom I belonged," he whispered, suddenly wishing his glass were full of something a little stronger.

_"Drinking yourself into a stupor will not help…"_ he could practically hear her soft voice remonstrating him.

And who was to say, given Hermione's terrifying experience with Lucius Malfoy, that she could look at anyone of his ilk with anything but revulsion? Severus had been there…remembered the feeling of nausea well. He had never been so scared in all his life as he was when he saw her hanging by the manacles around her hands…a collar around her neck and wondered if he had been too late.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered to his reflection in the mirror. "If you only knew…"

But it was better that she didn't. If she did, she would hate him and that…that would kill him. To see hatred in her eyes…

But she had said that she had preferred him to Edward. What had she meant by that? Severus supposed that it meant that Hermione felt safer with the evil she knew than the evil she did not know. What the devil had made him ask the question in the first place?

It was not fair. And now she was in danger. They both were.

Suddenly, he turned and threw his glass against the far wall of his room. It shattered into many pieces and the remaining water splashed on the floor.

"Damn, Malfoy!" He hissed as he picked up his wand and repaired the damaged glass. "Both of them!"

It was going to be a long night.

*******************In Hermione's room***************

There was no doubt about it…magical or muggle, Bertha Rochester was mad. Completely and totally mad. 

Tossing in her bed, Hermione could not get the image of the older woman out of her mind. She had been such an interesting character in the story but now, face to face, she was nothing less than frightening.

"No wonder Edward preferred Jane," she thought to herself, staring up at the ceiling…which did not provide any answers.

And she preferred Severus…very much so…but her experience had tainted her so badly. She felt as if she were a person of extremes. Icy cold one moment, unable to bear the merest contact. Fiery hot another moment, wanting nothing more than to…

Shaking her head, Hermione threw the covers off her in exasperation and sat up, dangling her feet over the edge of the bed.

"This is ridiculous. He does not care about me except as a friend…a good friend, perhaps. And I know he cares about me…his eyes do not glare daggers at me anymore. He does not pity me either, which is something I simply will not tolerate," she huffed. "I just want…I want to be free of feeling that any desire I have…is somehow unclean."

The tears came unbidden to her eyes and she angrily dashed them away with a savage swipe of her hand. She was not feeling very rational and suddenly empathized with Bertha. Perhaps they had more in common than she realized.

"But Bertha suffered from neglect…I can only wish that Lucius had neglected me," she sobbed quietly.

She remembered what Severus had said to her after the encounter with Draco. Perhaps she needed to try to exorcise a few demons.

"Hardly a few," she scoffed as she got off the bed and walked over to the small tilt mirror on the vanity. Moving it so it reflected her face in the moonlight, she tried a smile.

"It was not my fault," she whispered, trembling.

__

Memories of his hands all over her body…prodding…probing. The sickening high-pitched laugh that followed every scream of hers

"You are nothing but a Mudblood whore!" He had shouted as he forced her to do his bidding.

"It was not my fault," she whispered, more loudly this time.

__

"The only thing you are good for is to please me…and you are not doing a particularly good job at that either. I don't know what he sees in you…you're pathetic," he had sneered as he cleaned himself and left her.

It was not my fault," she muttered, her fists clenching into balls.

__

Looks of sympathy…looks of pity. Everyone whispering around her. Was it really forced? Maybe she enjoyed it. Clouds of people drifting around her…always wondering. Scorn…a person unclean. Used. A bit of dirty laundry.

And then a vision of Severus' face…compassionate…caring…eyes so black that they looked like pieces of the midnight sky.

"It was not your fault," he had said to her…over and over again in the infirmary as he mended her body and soul.

"It was not my fault!" She screamed and tore the small mirror from the vanity and hurled it through the open window. She leaned heavily on the desk, breathing hard…trying to stem the rage that seemed to be pouring out of her.

"No! It was not my fault!" A bowl of potpourri flew across the room.

"Not my choice!" The crystal clock met the same violent fate.

"I am not unclean!" The bedspreads were the next victim…tossed aside like an old dishrag.

Knocking on the door.

"It was not my fault. Damn you, Malfoy! Damn you to hell for what you did to me!" She tore the curtains off the rod and threw them to the ground.

The door flew open…Severus, wand out and looking frantic, rushed in…stopping short when he saw the disarray in her room. 

"Hermione?" He said quietly.

"No! It was not my fault! I did not want that! Did not want him!" She screamed at him, grabbing a small framed petit-point from the wall and throwing it at him.

Dodging the projectile, Severus quickly launched a Sleeping Charm. Hermione's knees immediately buckled and she would have fallen to the ground were it not for his quick reflexes. Catching her as she fell, he lifted her up and carried her to the bed, laying her down gently.

"Severus?" She still sounded frantic and was clutching at the bedsheets in seeming agony.

"Hush now, Hermione. It will be all right," he tried to comfort her, moving damp locks of hair away from her face. Her eyes were closed but she was still agitated.

"It was not my fault…I won't let him defeat me," she muttered angrily, the effect of the charm calming her.

"Everything will be better in the morning. You have held this in for far too long, Hermione. I know there were other griefs you had to work your way through, but you never thought about what had happened to you. You put it off…dealt with what happened to others first. That is not good…not healthy. You have to be strong. You have to deal with the situations that life throws in your direction and then decide what to do with the rest of your life. I will not allow you to give up on yourself or let you wallow in what spiteful and hateful people say about you. None of it is true."

Hermione yawned. "I just want to be Hermione…annoying know-it-all Gryffindor…the one you used to take points from…just Hermione…just want to go home…with you…" and she fell asleep.

Severus pulled the bedding around her…wanting to kiss her forehead but not having the courage.

__

"That's all I want you to be…because that is who I love," He thought. _"And I want to go home too…with you, although I doubt we mean it in the same context."_

After checking her one last time, he left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.


	5. A Ride in the Country

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Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or the divine Ms Charlotte Bronte. The convoluted plot is mine.

**Chapter 5:A Ride in the Country**

When Hermione woke up the next morning, the first thing she thought of was that her room at Hogwarts wasn't supposed to look like this…like some throwback to Victorian times. She puzzled over the strange feeling that she wasn't where she ought to be and looked around her several times before the realization of what had happened crashed over her.

She ducked her head back under the covers…chagrined at her outburst the previous night.

"What must he think of me?" She thought anxiously.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

"Jane, dear. Are you quite well?" the gentle voice of Mrs. Fairfax soothed Hermione's nerves somewhat.

"I'm fine, Mrs. Fairfax," Hermione replied as firmly as she could. "Just a little tired."

"I'm not surprised, my dear. You should not have been outside yesterday in such awful weather. It was far too cold for someone as delicate as yourself," the housekeeper returned. "Will you be down for breakfast?"

"Yes, Mrs. Fairfax. Thank you. I won't be long." Hermione listened for the footsteps to recede before getting out of bed. She looked at herself and discovered she had slept in her shift all night long. She smiled as she realized that Severus must have put her to bed that way…like a child who had fallen asleep on the sofa.

_"But does he still think of me as only a child?" _She wondered as she picked out another plain dress to wear…the shift being hopelessly rumpled.

She looked at her reflection in the mirror over the dresser. She was not that old. Only 27…but she felt so much older…felt so tired sometimes.

"This isn't going to do me a whole lot of good," she whispered, reaching out to touch the mirror. "I have my entire life ahead of me. Am I going to spend it bemoaning the fact that something awful happened to me? I am still here. I am still pretty much the person I used to be. I have friends…good friends who will never have this chance at life that I have."

An image of Ron came to her mind…lopsided grin and warm hugs. She really did miss him.

"I won't let you down either, Ron. I know you wouldn't want me to be this way. But it's been so hard…I just want to forget it ever happened but I know I never will, will I?"

Her reflection did not answer.

She brushed her hair and tried to put it up in a neat bun…but the unruly strands would have none of that. It looked rather spiky but, she sighed, it was probably the best she could do for the time being. Tucking her wand into her pocket, she decided to face the morning…and Severus.

"Come on, Hermione," she whispered to herself as she opened the door and headed towards the dining room. "Let's show some of the famed Gryffindor bravery, shall we?"

Taking several deep breaths to calm herself, Hermione made her way towards a wonderfully inviting smell. She suddenly realized that she was very, very hungry. Entering, she saw that Severus had not come down yet.

"Ah, there you are, Jane. Have a nice hot cup of tea…you look a little pale. Did you not sleep well?" Mrs. Fairfax presented her with a cup full of the fragrant liquid.

Hermione inhaled the vapours and smiled. "I read a little before sleeping."

Mrs. Fairfax made a clucking sound of disapproval. "Now, my dear Jane. You must not tire yourself out. You do not have a robust constitution and I fear that you will do yourself a grave ill if you do not allow yourself time to rest."

"I was only reading…hardly strenuous," Hermione protested mildly.

"And, if I know our dear Jane well enough, she is ever putting her nose into a book," a deep masculine voice made Hermione turn quickly. Severus stood in the doorway, dressed much the same as the day before…somehow managing to find more clothing in black which almost made her giggle.

"Ah, Mr. Rochester, sir. I'd imagine you'd be wanting coffee?" Mrs. Fairfax poured a steaming cup and set it down on the table, opposite Hermione.

He took his seat. "Thank you, Mrs. Fairfax."

Mrs. Fairfax smiled affectionately. "That reminds me…Adele and her nurse sent their regrets but they would not be returning from London until next week at the earliest."

Hermione watched as Severus pondered what to say. "It cannot be helped and I have no need for them at present."

Mrs. Fairfax nodded and returned to the kitchen.

"Can I get you some toast, Hermione?" Severus asked quietly. "You really should eat something."

"I'm starving," Hermione admitted.

Severus proceeded to load her plate with sausages, eggs, toast and strawberry preserves. "You scared me last night."

"I made such a fool of myself. I'm surprised that no one woke up…the spell you cast was perhaps a little stronger than you thought," Hermione replied, wolfing down some sausages and eggs in an attempt to fill the horrible empty feeling inside her.

"You did not make a fool of yourself, Hermione. Have I not told you all along that you cannot repress your anger forever? That it will suddenly spill out of you when you least expect it or least desire it?"

Hermione nodded, unable to speak because of the food in her mouth.

"Besides, I have an idea that should bring the sparkle back into your eyes," he smiled as he started eating himself.

"What's that?" She asked, as soon as she decently could without spluttering food all over the table.

"We are going to go horseback riding and, perhaps, stop at an inn not very far from here. I have already been to the stables this morning and there are several horses of good breeding and temperament. It would do you a world of good to get some fresh air. Not all the problems in the world can be solved by perusing the words of a book," Severus reached over for another slice of toast and spreading it with fresh butter and strawberry preserves.

"How did you know that I love horseback riding?" She asked, sipping at her tea. It wasn't common knowledge and she was certain that she had never mentioned it to him before.

For a moment, he seemed unsure as to what to say. But then he shrugged his shoulders. "What good Englishwoman doesn't like horseback riding? Besides, we may as well enjoy some of our time here."

They ate the rest of their breakfast in companionable silence. Hermione watched him discreetly. He was not a handsome man, really, but he was intriguing…darkly fascinating. She glanced at his hands, now deftly handling a knife and fork with the same quiet dexterity that he handled the various potions ingredients. His mouth was well formed…the lips a little thin. His eyes, now looking at his toast, always seemed to see something more than was actually there. 

She loved everything about him…even his nose which, she had to admit, was well beyond anything aquiline.

And his voice…it was like a magical spell in of itself…intoxicating.

Not wanting him to notice her staring at him, she quickly finished everything on her plate and sipped the last of her tea.

"Mrs. Fairfax will be pleased with your appetite this morning, Hermione," he smiled at her as he took a final sip of coffee and stood up.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was until I came down here," she replied, as he came around to help her out of her chair.

"You'll need something warm to wear…it's quite chilly. Mrs. Fairfax will have my head if you catch cold."

Hermione smiled. "You're lucky that she trusts you…it isn't exactly the thing to do in these times."

"What? Not take my governess for a ride in the country?"

"One might think you have designs on your governess," Hermione turned and left the dining room in search of Mrs. Fairfax. 

Severus simply stood there, stunned.

Had she just flirted with him?

Thoroughly confused, he walked over to a closet he had discovered earlier and pulled out a riding cloak that seemed to be made of very good quality wool. He was concerned about her…that episode last night, while cathartic, had unnerved him. He didn't want her to think about their unknown enemy or the very slight chance they had of ever returning. He just wanted her to have a day to recover her good spirits and he felt that a ride in the country would do her a world of good.

"Here I am," Hermione stepped into view, wearing a warm wrap and kid leather gloves.

"Let's get out to the stables…there is the little matter of which horse you wish to ride this morning," Severus said regally, as if bestowing a great honour on his former student.

Hermione took his arm and they walked out together to the stables where many horses stamped, whinnied and otherwise made their presence known.

"Do you have a preference?" Severus asked as he walked over to a lovely roan mare and rubbed her nose.

Hermione looked from one horse to another. There were at least seven and each was in prime condition.

"The dappled mare…she looks simply beautiful," Hermione smiled at the placid animal that was munching some hay.

"I'll have one of the stableboys saddle her for you. I will be riding the black stallion from yesterday. Isn't he a noble animal?"

Hermione had to agree. The black stallion snorted impatiently and reared up on his back legs as Severus approached. "We've already been for a quick jaunt," Severus explained quietly before calling a young man, who was cleaning out another stable to saddle up the two horses.

Within a few minutes, they were off.

It had been a long time since Hermione had last ridden and she felt a surge of energy as they galloped along the countryside. It was cold, but not too cold. It was a cloudy day but bright enough for comfort. It was a perfect day for riding.

_"If only I could ride like this forever…never stopping,"_ she thought as she raced along. _"Riding…with him like this. Like something out of a novel."_

And she couldn't help giggling a little over that.

Severus, for his part, kept pace with her…allowing Hermione to ride ahead just a little bit so that he could watch her without fear of her catching him in the act. She looked much more peaceful and her hair had abandoned any notion that it would abide by the strict Victorian style and had slipped from its precarious bun, flowing freely in the wind…shining like burnished bronze. She…was so very beautiful.

_"Is it really so wrong for me to love her…desire her…cherish her?"_ he wondered as he urged his mount after her. _"Is it so wrong to hope…that someday…she might feel the same?"_

It seemed that they rode on like that forever. As the sun neared its apex, they arrived at a small copse of trees in a large glen. Hermione reined her horse to a stop and dismounted. Severus soon followed her.

"That was wonderful!" She exclaimed as they tied off their horses to one of the trees and left them to graze. Severus reached into one of the saddlebags and pulled out some wine, bread and new cheese that he had taken from the kitchens early that morning.

"They are magnificent animals, aren't they?" Severus asked, walking over to a fallen log and sitting down. Hermione sat next to him, taking off her gloves and tucking them into a pocket of her dress.

"It was very kind of you to take me out like this. I can't tell you how much better it has made me feel," she said shyly.

"I didn't bring glasses. Would you like a sip of wine? It will warm you," Severus offered the small flagon to her. She smiled and, unstopping it, took a small sip.

"It's very good," she said. 

He broke off pieces of the bread and cut some slices of cheese with a knife, handing them to her on his handkerchief. She set the wine down on the ground and accepted the meal gratefully.

"The cook gave me a decidedly evil glare when she caught me rummaging through the cellar. I suppose she thought I had evil designs on her cheese," Severus smirked as he ate a slice of the cheese.

Nibbling on the bread, Hermione grinned. "I suppose that would be a bit out of character for Mr. Rochester."

"I'm finding this Rochester character to be more complicated than I thought," Severus sighed dramatically as he reached for the flagon and took a long drink. "Why did he marry Bertha?"

"He loved her…with all the fire and intensity of a first love. However, she was not the one for him. They were too much alike and not enough alike at the same time. That doesn't make much sense…but it is true all the same," Hermione accepted the flagon from Severus and took another small sip.

Above them, the clouds began to darken but neither one paid any attention.

"And…Jane. Why was she the right one for him?"

"She loved him. It did not matter if he were rich or not. It did not matter what his past had been like. It did not matter that he was not handsome in the traditional sense. None of it mattered. They belonged to each other…body and soul. The problem was that he was already married and…"

"And Jane refused to become anything other than a proper wife," Severus finished the sentence.

"To do anything else would be to compromise who she was in order to be what he wanted," Hermione took another sip of the wine to quell the rising feeling of…awareness between them.

The distant booming of thunder went unnoticed and the silence grew into something deeper.

Severus looked at her…she looked uncertain and somewhat fearful. All he wanted to do was take her in his arms and reassure her that his love for her would never allow him to ask of her what this book's character had obviously thought was his right. Perhaps Rochester had justified himself…thought that bringing love to another would somehow make up for stealing her soul and identity.

It was not right. No, it was not right at all. That sort of selfish deception, even with the best of intentions, was still deception and there was no honour in that.

Hermione felt shy and yet exhilarated. She felt the wind moving around them…sighing sadly. She could feel Severus' gaze on her but dared not meet it. What was he thinking? Could he possibly be thinking the same thing that was in her mind…that of touching his lips to hers?

She would not say no. Not to him.

It was odd, when it came right down to it. There were a thousand reasons why she should not love such a man as Severus Snape. Jane would never have ventured near Edward had he a tenth of the darkness in his past that Severus had.

But she was not Jane…and none of those reasons mattered any longer. What was past was past…and that was where it rightfully would remain.

The spattering of cold rain caused both of them to return to the present.

"We had best hurry back to the manor," Severus said, taking Hermione's hand and assisting her towards where the horses were tethered.

Except there was only one.

"Where is my horse?" Hermione cried out as the rain started coming down in earnest, soaking them both.

Severus struggled to free his horse and tried to look through the rain for any sign of the other wayward animal.

"She must have gotten loose!" He shouted…trying to make his voice heard over the thunder. "She has bolted for home! You must ride with me…we can't stay here…the lightning is too dangerous and we are vulnerable."

Hermione nodded, the cold rain chilling her to the bone. Severus put his hands around her waist and helped her onto the stallion. He then got on behind her. Wrapping an arm around her waist protectively and covering her with his cloak, Severus ordered the horse to gallop at full speed.

Through the rain and the thunder and the lightning they raced. Hermione was frightened…lightning reminded her of the curse that had killed Ron. She pressed against the comforting warmth of Severus and held onto that hand tightly.

"We'll be there soon, Hermione," Severus reassured her. 

Hermione did not answer. She merely closed her eyes and savoured something she thought she might never experience again.

Feeling every heartbeat of the man she loved.

Feeling the warmth of his body warming her own.

Feeling safe.


	6. How History Repeats Itself

**__**

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or the divine Ms Charlotte Bronte (although there are a couple of very Jane Austen-esque scenes and lines in here as well). Written especially for Lynn, to whom the chapter is dedicated with many smiles. Please bear with my inconsistencies…as much as I love 19th century British fiction…I am not an expert at it. Your indulgence is much appreciated.

****

Chapter 6: How History Repeats Itself

It seemed to Severus that the storm was raging with unusual fury as he raced his horse towards Thornfield. The rain was relentless, coming down in sheets, stinging his face and practically blinding him. The thunder crashed around him…booming rolls of noise that made him cringe and startled the stallion. The ever-present danger of lightning made him huddle low on the saddle, holding Hermione closer to him in an effort to shield her.

Something was amiss. If they had been back in their own world, he would have immediately suspected Dark Magic. But this was not their world and he mentally consigned the younger Malfoy to some terrible nether region of hell once again. Azkaban was nothing compared to what he wanted to do to that spineless whelp of a man.

Severus could feel Hermione shivering and inwardly cursed his misguided intentions. He had wanted to give her an opportunity to recover her optimism and strength and now she was in danger of catching her death of cold as he so jokingly pointed out earlier.

__

"Mrs. Fairfax will certainly have my head," he thought to himself as he urged the stallion to go even faster, oblivious to the fact that he himself was soaked to the skin.

They arrived at the manor in due time…Severus practically leaping off the horse before helping Hermione down. He handed the reins to a waiting groom who quickly led the foaming horse into the stable, looking back at them curiously. 

"Come, Hermione. See if you can walk," he held out his hands to her to guide her. She faltered on the first step…almost falling if not for his almost cat-like reflexes…catching her before she struck the wet ground.

"I…I don't feel at all well, Severus," she said weakly before swooning into unconsciousness.

"Hermione!" He shouted, picking her up in his arms and hurrying towards the entrance to the manor.

He kicked the door open and walked in, cloak billowing from the fury of the storm, a frantic look in his eyes…Hermione still not moving…

"Mrs. Fairfax! We are in need of assistance!" He called out, looking around wildly for the housekeeper.

Mrs. Fairfax hurried into the room and gasped when she saw the insensible young woman, dropping the bit of knitting she had been working on.

"Leah! Grace! Come quickly! Hurry!" She screamed as she rushed over and placed a hand on Hermione's forehead. Hermione moaned a little and tried to move her head away from the slender hand.

"Merciful heavens, she is soaked through and burning with fever, Mr. Rochester. We will have to bring her to her room. Ah, Leah…there you are…and Grace. It's sheer Providence that Jane is so slight…you will have no trouble carrying her."  
  
Severus did not understand what Mrs. Fairfax meant but when he saw the two female servants approaching him, he realized that 19th century muggle customs were not all that different from 19th century wizarding customs. He did not protest as his burden was lifted from him.

The two women carried Hermione gently and Severus stood there for a moment, bereft of feeling…wondering what he could do.

"Mrs. Fairfax…this is entirely my own fault. Damn stubbornness on my part to insist that she take some air. She is my responsibility…a member of my household. Give me an occupation…I must do something," he protested, rubbing at his temples.

The housekeeper looked at him with sympathy. "You always had a good heart, Mr. Rochester. We'll try to get her settled in and then you can see her for just a bit. In the meantime, we wouldn't want you to get sick as well. Change into some dry clothes and go into the library where you can have a warm brandy. It's just the thing for keeping a body healthy after an ordeal like this."

"Thank you, Mrs. Fairfax…I will do that. Please keep me apprized of her condition. If a physician is needed…there are other horses that I could ride to summon help," Severus replied.

"It is likely unnecessary…but I will let you know." And with that the housekeeper went off in the direction of Hermione's room.

Severus stood there for a few moments and, ignoring the chills of the wet clothing against his skin, moved to the library where he poured himself a rather large glass of brandy and downed the contents in one swallow. 

"Damn!" He hissed through clenched teeth and threw the glass against the fireplace. He didn't bother to repair the damage this time.

He began to pace again…backwards and forwards. 

__

"I am utterly useless in this place," he thought to himself_. "I have no potions ingredients and no means of producing anything useful. All my knowledge in the field of basic medicinal herbology is utterly useless to me. What if she develops seizures? What if she does not regain consciousness? 19th century Muggles wouldn't know the first thing about treating illness…they bled everybody, regardless of the ailment."_

He stopped for a moment, a look of horror on his face.

__

"What if she dies?"

A spasm went through his heart and, for a moment, he closed his eyes in sheer pain. 

__

"No…I will not allow her to die…not here…not now," he thought in despair. There had to be something he could do…someone who could help.

The sound of footsteps caused him to turn around. Mrs. Fairfax, looking quite pale, beckoned him to follow her. He did not reply but swept out of the parlour and towards Hermione's room.

They reached the door and Mrs. Fairfax paused, turning back to Severus. "She's…she's not herself…keeps talking about people I do not know."

Severus, muttering under his breath, nodded impatiently and the housekeeper opened the door. Severus hurried inside.

Leah and Grace were off to one side, arranging linens and setting up a basin of water. Hermione was lying on her bed, dressed in a white cotton nightgown, with the bed linens brought up to her waist. Her forehead was slick with perspiration and she looked very agitated.

"Ron…Ron…why did you leave me? Why…" she moaned, tears flowing down her cheeks.

She was clearly hallucinating and that meant her fever was dangerously high.

Severus felt his heart drop.

__

****************Back at Hogwarts******************

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room. It had been such a long time since this room had seen him as a regular occupant. Sinking into one of the really comfortable squashy wing chairs near the fireplace, he could almost imagine that he was a student again…studying for Potions finals, playing Quidditch and getting into all sorts of adventures with his best friends.

Sighing, he looked at the two other wing chairs that they had regularly occupied during seventh year.

"We were supposed to celebrate Voldemort's defeat together," he whispered to the room. "It wasn't supposed to end the way it did."

Standing up, he walked over to a small display cabinet within which was a broken chess set. There was a small plaque on the chessboard.

**__**

Dedicated to the memory of Ronald Weasley

"You shouldn't have gone out that night, Ron," Harry whispered to the chess set, his eyes aching. "It was stupid of you to come after me the way you did."

"He was doing what he thought was the right thing to do, Harry," Sirius stepped through the portrait door and looked at him sadly.

"Was it the right thing?"

Sirius shook his head sadly as if to imply that the question was too difficult to answer. "Harry, Ron felt that you were important enough in the battle against the Dark Lord to sacrifice himself. He knew that you had gone after Hermione. He was not going to sit back and not help. If the situation had been reversed…would you not have gone?"

Harry sat down heavily on his accustomed chair and put his head in his hands.

"Of course not, Sirius. I…I just miss him and now…with Hermione stuck in that book…I just feel so useless. All this power…all this talent. All the accolades about the Boy Who Lived and I can't even stop my best friends from getting hurt."

Sirius came to stand beside Harry and patted him on the shoulder. "Unfortunately, I know what that feels like."

"I'm sorry, Sirius…I didn't mean to open any old wounds," Harry replied contritely.

"No apology is necessary, Harry," Sirius smiled. "There is a limit to what we can do…even to protect the ones we love the most."

"I can't lose her too, Sirius," he whispered. "She's all I have left."

"What about Ginny?"

"That's not what I meant. It's like you and Remus…you are the only two Marauders left."

"I know what you meant, Harry," Sirius replied. "But you have to take heart in the fact that she is an intelligent witch and she will find a way to get out of there."

"At least she isn't alone," Harry sighed, looking at the empty fireplace.

"I just hope that Severus is not giving her a great deal of trouble," Sirius grunted, walking over to one of the empty wing chairs and sitting down.

Harry looked pensive for a moment. "Somehow, I don't think so."

__

******************Flashback*****************

It was finally over. The Dark Lord had been defeated and the world had been saved from plunging into total darkness and chaos. The Boy Who Lived became the Man Who Triumphed. The celebrations would not be ending anytime soon.

But the price had been high…higher than Harry expected.

Ron was dead…killed by Lucius Malfoy.

Hermione had been brutally violated by the same man and was still recovering in the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey had been a casualty in the final battle and so it had been the responsibility of the Potions Master, Severus Snape, to heal the young witch as best he could.

Two weeks had passed and she had still not regained consciousness. Harry could see that Severus was worried and spent much of his time reading through books on medicinal potions that he procured from the Restricted Section. It seemed odd that the older wizard would be devoting so much time and effort to try to wake her. His skill was apparent in the way he was able to look after the countless others who were injured…his ability to stopper death had certainly not been an exaggeration. Hermione was the only patient left and Harry sensed that there was something different in the Potions Master's treatment of his best friend. 

Something that he could not put his finger on. 

It was not something that worried him…he never felt that Severus' treatment lacked any of his customary skill and talent…or that Hermione was ever in any danger. It was just something…the touch that lasted a fraction of a second longer than was absolutely necessary. The look of worry and unease…glints of fear in the normally unreadable black eyes. The way he pored through book after book in an effort to find some vital piece of information that would unlock the mystery.

And then, of course, there had been his reaction to the dispatching of Lucius Malfoy's soul…

One night, Harry could not sleep and, in a fit of nostalgia, threw on his Invisibility Cloak and wandered the corridors of Hogwarts…reverting back to a habit picked up while a student. He passed by many places that brought back vivid memories of his friends and sometimes he smiled…and sometimes he didn't.

Wanting to see Hermione suddenly, Harry turned back to the infirmary and, finding the door already open, quietly walked in. He was about to take off his cloak when he noticed that she was not alone. Not that this was surprising in the least but he almost gasped aloud when he saw Severus sitting on a chair beside her bed, holding her hand as if it were the dearest thing in the world to him. Harry's eyes widened and he put his hand over his mouth.

"Please, Hermione…I have tried everything. I don't know what else to do. I fear that you are mired in fear, shame and guilt and that you have lost the will to come back to me…to us." The older wizard was whispering brokenly. Harry was astonished at the expression of sorrow…so unlike the man he thought he knew.

He watched as Severus touched Hermione's cheek softly.

"I can't lose you, Hermione. You're the only thing left to me in this world. I…I could be happy…seeing you live your life with another…knowing that you were happy. I will not ask that which is not within my right to ask. But I am begging you…please do not give up. Please come back to me."

Severus leaned over and kissed Hermione on the cheek. 

"I love you," the words were whispered so softly that Harry wondered if they had been the product of his imagination.

There was something very sad about this hopeless declaration of love that Harry immediately felt like an intruder and padded out as quietly as he could. He had never believed his former professor to be capable of such strong emotions and now…Harry knew that he had been sadly mistaken.

Hermione had recovered consciousness the next day and Harry wondered if it was merely coincidence…

…or something else…

__

**************Back at Hogwarts, in the present**************

"He'll look after her, Sirius," Harry repeated in a firm voice. "I know it."

Sirius merely grunted in reply, looking rather skeptical. "He's a cunning wizard, Harry…I'll grant him that. And I know he has a great sense of honour…don't think anyone doubts that…'cept maybe Fudge but his opinion isn't worth the parchment it's written on."

"And he saved her life twice before…once when he discovered her in Malfoy's mansion. The second time in the hospital infirmary…when everyone else thought there was no chance of saving her. Who's to say that three times is not the charm?"

"I know, Harry," Sirius sighed, stretching in the chair in a manner highly reminiscent of a dog. "I'm not trying to be uncharitable. He's proven himself to me many times over."

"Then what is it?" Harry asked.

Sirius did not answer.

__


	7. A Death in the Family

**_Disclaimer_**_: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or it could belong to Charlotte Bronte or possibly Jane Austen. Whatever little bits are left over belong to me (unfortunately, Severus is not one of those little bits…oh well).  Dedicated to my hubby…who doesn't particularly like Harry Potter, really doesn't like 19th century British fiction and yet still reads everything I have written and constantly encourages me.  The fact that he dressed up as a Potions Master for Halloween has absolutely nothing to do with it  ::grin::_

**Chapter 7: A Death in the Family**

Severus was absolutely frantic with worry. Hermione, for all the ministrations of Mrs. Fairfax and the other servants, was not getting better and her bouts of delusion were becoming more and more frequent as her body progressively weakened. The local physician could not be located and it was assumed that he was assisting with another patient in a faraway parish.

Finally fed up with feeling useless, Severus walked into her room and quickly put Leah, who was the only one currently attending, under the influence of a Sleeping Spell. 

He was ill prepared for the sight before him.

Hermione was lying on the bed. Her face and throat were shining with sweat and her hair was fanned out around her face in damp, heavy locks. Her lips were moving and her hands were regularly clenching and unclenching the sheets, twisting them into knots. She looked very upset, even though her eyes remained shut.  She was moaning…tossing her head from side to side.  Unintelligible mutterings that sounded at times like grief…pain…fear.

Sitting on the ground next to her was a basin and Severus could see that there was a dark liquid inside it…he realized with a shock that it was blood…her blood!  Someone was bleeding her!  He pulled up the sleeve of her nightgown and found the point where they had cut her.  Cursing under his breath, he was sorely tempted to heal the crude incision but knew that it would rouse suspicions.  

_"I will have to have a talk with Mrs. Fairfax and order a stop to this barbaric treatment,"_ he thought angrily…a cold light shining in his eyes as he pulled the sleeve back down.

He picked up a small stool and brought it to her bedside. Sitting down, he took a facecloth out of a small basin of cold water sitting on the night stand, wrung it out carefully and placed it over her forehead. For a moment, she tensed and shuddered at the cold feeling but then, slowly, her agitation began to ease somewhat. He touched her cheek, feeling the hot skin burning into his. He placed two fingers at the side of her throat and felt her pulse racing out of control.

"What am I going to do?" He whispered, taking her hand in his. It was limp…lifeless…as if all her strength had burned away.

"Why did you have to go, Ron?" She began to cry, tears beginning to fall from the closed lids.

Severus was momentarily stunned at the outburst and did not know what to do. Was she expecting an answer? Did she think he was Ron?

"I miss you so much, Ron," she sobbed. Severus did not let go of her hand but he felt his heart crack into several pieces. She had loved Ron? He had always assumed that their relationship had never gone outside the boundaries of friendship but this declaration seemed to refute that notion.

"Ron…Ron cared for you a great deal, Hermione," Severus managed to answer.

She nodded tiredly. "My best friend.  Oh Ron…you were the only one who knew…the only one I dared tell…"

"Tell what?"

"My secret," her voice was taking on a singsong quality that Severus did not like…the fever was still raging…he was concerned about seizures.

"I thought Gryffindors had no secrets," he said lightly, removing his hand from hers and refreshing the cloth on her forehead.

"I'll never tell," she teased, licking her dry lips. Severus picked up a glass of water and managed to get her to take a sip before arranging the linens around her.

"You must try to rest, Hermione," Severus whispered softly.

Hermione suddenly became agitated again, grabbing the linens and straining against them as if…

"Get away from me, Lucius. You cannot keep me here. Don't touch me!!!"

Severus, not wanting any other visitors, quickly cast a Silencing Spell on the room.

_"She is imagining that she is at Malfoy Mansion,"_ he thought to himself anxiously. Thinking of nothing else that could possibly calm her in her fevered state, Severus gathered her up in his arms and held her close, pulling a knit blanket around her. She struggled briefly and cursed him repeatedly, thinking he was Lucius, but her body was weak from the fever and the bleeding and she quickly succumbed to the pull of sleep.

Severus continued to hold her for a few moments.  He could not let her go…he was scared to.

_"I'll never forget that night…the night I found you,"_ he thought to himself as he reached over to pick up the fallen facecloth in the basin of water and dipped it into the water.  He shuddered violently. 

_"Never."_

***************Flashback********************

"Are you sure of this?" Harry asked incredulously.

"It isn't possible…we saw her…she was dead," Ron sputtered furiously.

Severus shook his head.  "A reliable source has told me that she is being held prisoner at Malfoy Manor."

"Who told you this?" Sirius grabbed Severus by his robes.  "And why is this information so conveniently given to you now?"

"Let go of me, Black!  I had nothing to do with this," Severus pushed him away roughly.  "Marcus Flint met me in the dungeons, not fifteen minutes ago."

"Leave him alone, Sirius," Ron snapped, tired of their constant bickering.  "I'll bet Flint was thrilled to death…he's had her number since she captured his parents." 

"Marcus told me that it was all false…the person we thought was Hermione was a Muggle he had murdered himself…a Muggle who had been given a derivative of the polyjuice potion… the effects lasted much longer.  The person in Hermione Granger's grave is not Hermione Granger," Severus said coldly.  "Marcus is currently under the effects of a Stunning Spell…I…I almost…"

Harry walked over and put a hand on his former professor's shoulder.  

"Would have been no great loss if you had, Snape," Sirius muttered under his breath.

"But why?  I don't understand.  If we are supposed to think she is dead, what possible value could she conceivably have to him?" Ron asked, his expression one of absolute confusion.

Severus opened his mouth but could not speak.  Sirius turned to him suddenly, a terrible gleam in his eyes.

"He's…he's keeping her, isn't he?"

Severus nodded.

Harry looked at the two older men.  "What are you talking about?"  Ron's eyes suddenly widened in fear.

Sirius turned to Harry.  "There have always been rumours about Malfoy and a couple of others…and their…appetite for…Muggles or Muggleborns."

"What!!!" Ron screamed, jumping to his feet.

"It is my belief," Severus continued, sickened, "that Lucius is keeping Hermione a prisoner for the sole purpose of…of his own sadistic pleasure."

Harry's face turned white.

"We have to get her out of there!" Ron screamed, pulling out his wand.

"And what would you have us do?  You do not understand how well protected Malfoy Mansion is.  We would all be dead before setting a foot in there!" Severus shouted.

Sirius looked shaken beyond words.  "You swear you had nothing to do with this?"

"Sirius!" Ron suddenly shouted.  "Stop making an ass of yourself."

Sirius looked at Ron curiously for a moment, then turned back to Severus.

"I am deeply offended you have the gall to ask me that, Black!" Severus' expression was dark and angry.  "I would never hurt her.  You know that!"

Sirius nodded.  "I'm angry, Snape.  I'm angry as hell…the thought of Lucius…" Sirius could not continue.

Ron was still shaking his head in disbelief…muttering unintelligible somethings under his breath.

"What do we do?" Harry finally asked, in a voice that did not shake, although his knuckles were white from holding his wand so tightly.

In the end, Severus had asked Harry to accompany him…too large a group would risk certain failure.  Sirius was furious as was Ron, but in the end, it was agreed that this was for the best.

Unfortunately, the plan did not work as planned and Harry found himself battling not only Lucius Malfoy but a number of other Death Eaters as Severus rushed into the dungeons of Malfoy Manor to find Hermione.  He opened the door and rushed in, wand out.  He stopped as quickly as if he had rushed face first into a stone wall.

She was hanging by the manacles around her wrists, blood streaming down her arms…her face covered by her hair.  She was completely nude except for a collar around her neck.  Nearby were various whips and paddles…used recently if the bruising was any indication…and those were not the only marks on her body…

Fighting down the urge to be sick, Severus hurried to her, magically opening the manacles and catching her as she fell into his arms.  He threw his cloak over her and held her close.  She was alive.

"Hermione?"

For several long moments, she did not stir.  Severus could hear the sounds of the battle on the upper levels.

"Hermione…please answer me," he tried again.

Her eyes opened fearfully and immediately she began to struggle against him.

"It's me, Hermione.  It's Severus.  You're safe now…I won't let him hurt you again," he whispered…not daring to let go of her...scared she might harm herself.

She stopped struggling and began to cry uncontrollably.  "He…he…to me…I couldn't stop him…I…he only laughed…oh, gods, Severus!"  She buried her face in his chest and sobbed brokenly.  Severus' face was a study in cold fury.  

Suddenly Severus heard Harry shout something very loudly…and then there was an awful silence.   

"He will pay, Hermione.  I swear that he will pay for what he did to you," he whispered.  Carrying her up the stairs, he found Harry holding someone.  There were many dead bodies strewn around the room.

And Harry was crying.  

"What happened?" Severus asked…suddenly anxious.

Harry lifted his head and Severus saw who it was cradled in his lap.  It was Ron!  One look into the vacant brown eyes told him that he was dead.

"He saved my life.  Lucius Malfoy was going to kill me…Ron…pushed me out of the way," Harry whispered…the words echoing in the eerie silence.

"Where is Lucius?" Severus asked, looking around…wanting to look at anything except the dead form of someone he had considered to be a friend.

"Over there…I stunned him."

"You did the right thing, Harry.  Death is too good for him," Severus hissed through clenched teeth, holding Hermione tighter.

"Is she all right?" Harry asked, wiping his eyes.

"No…she needs help.  I have to get her back to the Hogwarts infirmary…"

  
"But Madam Pomfrey is dead…there is no one there who can treat something as serious as this," Harry protested.

"I will look after her," Severus looked at Hermione's sleeping face.  "I am truly very sorry about Ron, Harry.  I know you were close…he came from a brave family and I respected him a great deal.  He will be sorely missed."

"This is all my fault.  I should have realized he would come after me," Harry's eyes began to shimmer again.  "He never listened to me."

"Don't dishonour the sacrifice he made, Harry.  He felt that you and Hermione were worth the risk.  You know you would have done the same for him."  Murmuring a Soothing Spell to ensure that she would stay asleep, Severus set Hermione down on a chesterfield and walked over to Harry.

"Of course I would have…he's…he was…he was my best friend," Harry whispered, looking down at Ron and closing the brown eyes with shaking fingers.

"We have to leave this place quickly, Harry…otherwise his sacrifice will have been in vain," Severus touched Harry's arm gently.  "You have to bring him back with you…his parents…"

"I know, Severus…I'm…just…messed up right now," Harry admitted, gently easing Ron to the ground before standing up.  He picked up Ron's wand and put it in his pocket.  Levitating Ron carefully, he turned to Severus.  "What about them?"

Picking up Hermione, Severus looked grimly at the various corpses.  "Leave the dead…they are of no use to us.  Bring Lucius…I want to be there when the Dementor chokes on his soul…for Hermione's sake."

Levitating the unconscious man, Harry nodded.  "I will be there with you as well, Severus…for Ron's sake," he replied savagely.

**************End of Flashback*****************

"_And Sirius witnessed the horrid affair…he had a long standing grudge against Lucius Malfoy and insisted that he be present,"_ Severus thought as he held Hermione close.

"You are safe, Hermione.  You are safe from him.  He can never hurt you again," Severus whispered to her, even though she was now fast asleep in his arms.  He set her down gently on the bed and straightened the rumpled sheets and blankets around her.  Her fever was not breaking and he was at a loss…ingredients for a simple fever-reducing potion were easy enough to procure in Hogsmeade but what about here?  Who would know?

He mentally smacked his head soundly and stood up.

"I'll be back shortly, Hermione," he whispered, placing his hand over hers for a moment.

He quickly left the room, nullifying the Silencing Charm and rousing Leah once he was safely in the corridor.  He did not stop running until…

"Bertha!  I need your help!"  He called to the woman in the attic.

"A moment!" She replied.  He heard the sound of a body falling. "Come in."

He walked through the door, stepping over the sleeping body of Grace Poole.

"Your companion is very ill," Bertha said, looking rather worried.  "They are not doing a particularly good job of looking after her.  Unfortunately, I lack any skill in potions.  I would do more harm than good."

"I have to do something…I have no potions ingredients on me except a vial of Veritaserum," Severus walked up to her.  

"There is an apothecary's shop in the village…about ten miles away.  You should be able to find what you need there," Bertha looked pensive.  

"Can I apparate there?  It would be faster," Severus asked.

"No…your magic is not the magic of this world.  You must reach the village by more conventional means.  But, I warn you, there is great risk in exposing yourself to more people than is absolutely necessary."

"She will die if I don't do something!" Severus shouted.

"That is true…her body has not recovered its strength from other battles she has had to fight," Bertha replied, pausing to look into an empty teacup.  "You have to be careful…there are those who can help you and those who wish to hurt you and you will not always be able to tell which is which."

"I have to take the chance…have to accept the risk…she is…she is the only good thing in my life," Severus turned from Bertha suddenly and walked to the door.  He stopped, closed his eyes for a moment.  "I cannot lose her."

Bertha walked over to him and touched his arm.  "I know that.  Take the fastest stallion in the stables.  The apothecary's shop is not a long ride…use your wand to find the way."

"How will I pay for the ingredients?" He asked, opening the door.

"Take this," she summoned Grace's purse and gave it to Severus.

"But…I can't possibly…"

"She is drunk half the time…she will assume that she lost it.  Go…you are wasting time!"

On a sudden impulse, Severus took Bertha's hand and kissed it.  "I have no words to thank you, Madame."

For a moment, there was sadness in Bertha's eyes but it quickly cleared.  "Go!  Or I'll turn you into a toad!"  
  


Smiling slightly, he hurried out of the room and down the corridor.

Bertha closed the door and sat down on her bed, waiting for Grace to wake up.

"If only you had been more like him, Edward…maybe we would have had a chance," she whispered to the emptiness.


	8. Of Kisses and Potions

**_Disclaimer_**_: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or it could belong to Charlotte Bronte or possibly Jane Austen. Only the convoluted plot belongs to me._

Chapter 8:  Of Kisses and Potions 

Remus Lupin sat in Dumbledore's office and looked at the Sorting Hat thoughtfully.  He had never thought that a person like himself could ever have been put into any other house except Slytherin.  In his opinion, being a werewolf meant that one was inherently evil and that could only mean Slytherin.  Odd how he had been sorted into Gryffindor.  Very odd.  The funny thing was that, not only was he placed in another house that he had not expected, but he discovered that being a Slytherin did not mean a person was predisposed to becoming a Death Eater.

Just as being a Gryffindor did not always validate a person's bravery…Peter had been a prime example of how wrong his assumptions were.

Sighing, he went to sit down on one of the many chairs in the office.  He was so very tired…and the full moon was only days away…

"Remus?  What are you doing here?" Sirius Black stepped into the office, holding Hermione's copy of 'Jane Eyre'.

"Why do you have that?" Remus asked.

"We were trying a spell…didn't work.  Harry is frantic with worry," Sirius put the book down on Dumbledore's desk and took a seat beside Remus.  "It's a bad business, Moony.  A bad business."

"Do you think we will ever get them back, Padfoot?" Remus asked, looking over at the book with worry etched on his face.

Sirius sighed deeply.  "I don't know…as long as the book is safe, there is always hope."

"Are you all right, Padfoot?  You haven't been yourself lately," Remus stood up and walked towards a small table upon which were a jug of iced pumpkin juice and four glasses.  Filling two of them, he offered one to Sirius, who accepted with a barely audible thank you.

The silence was not something Remus was used to where Sirius was concerned.

"I've been angry for too long…I don't know how to let it go," Sirius sighed, turning the glass in his hands.

"What do you mean?"

"Even Snape has somehow managed to get on with his life…even he has a purpose with trying to find something that will cure you…and he has as much reason to blast half the people in the Ministry of Magic. I…I seem mired in this pit of resentment.  I feel…trapped."

Remus looked at Sirius with concern.  "What is troubling you?  You know you could always talk to me, Padfoot."

"I know that, Moony," Sirius smiled for a moment.  "I thought that when Lucius was…when that…thing…well, I just thought that it would be the end of it.  Being free…finally declared innocent…teaching here…maybe it wasn't an exciting subject…"

"History of Magic is rarely exciting although I think the students prefer you to Binns," Remus smirked.

"I don't know how I should be dealing with it…I wanted this for so long and now that it is here…this life without worrying about Dementors…," Sirius sighed, taking a sip of the pumpkin juice.

"Was it awful…with Lucius?  I have never witnessed…I mean, they asked me…I…I couldn't," Remus ran a shaking hand through his hair, shuddering in revulsion.  "I've come close enough to them…living nightmares."

Sirius thought for a moment before answering.  "It was worse than that, Moony.  It was far worse."

_***************Flashback*************_

It seemed odd that the room was brightly lit.  Somehow, Sirius had always associated this type of sentencing with darkness…it was more appropriate in a macabre sort of way.  This room seemed almost cheerful…was it a spell to calm the person whose very life would be momentarily destroyed?

And he could not forget how it almost happened to him.

Looking over at Severus, whose gaze was fixed on some point outside the window, Sirius glared momentarily at the man who had almost cost him his soul.

_"But you are not so innocent yourself, Black,"_ Sirius thought to himself, pulling at a stray thread on the sleeve of his robes.  _"You almost killed him with that stupid prank of yours.  Perhaps we are even after all."_

Harry stood rigidly, arms crossed over his chest.  His expression was tense and Sirius could see anger smouldering in the depths of his green eyes.

Sighing with impatience, Sirius stood up and walked over to Harry.

"How is she doing?" He asked.

"Severus has been looking after her," Harry replied, clearly not focusing on the conversation.  "I have been in to see her but…she…she hasn't woken up yet.  I will go today…after this.  Would you like to come as well?"

Sirius looked at Severus.  He noticed that the Potions Master's fists were clenching his wand tightly and that he seemed unusually anxious.

_"Why did he take on the task of healing her?  Is it pointless?  Some of the others seem to think it would be best if she were simply allowed to…to go,"_ Sirius thought to himself, angry with those others for giving up on Hermione.  She deserved a chance and he respected the glowering man for doing what the others would not.

"Snape…will it…I mean, I would like to see her," Sirius asked.

Severus turned to him.  "Of course…today would be a good day for that," he whispered, turning back to the window.

In utter confusion, Sirius turned to Harry for some explanation.  Harry simply looked at Severus with something bordering on compassion, which, in turn, confounded Sirius even more.  He felt that he was missing something.

_"I don't understand,"_ he thought to himself, returning to his seat.

There was a sudden chill in the air as Lucius Malfoy, two Aurors, Albus Dumbledore, Arthur Weasley and a Dementor walked into the room.  Sirius instinctively backed away from the horrid vision in front of him.

A hand on his arm startled him.  With a start, he realized it was Severus.

"You are innocent, Black," he said quietly.

Sirius felt as if he could handle no further surprises that day.  He nodded mutely and turned to witness the proceedings.

"Lucius Malfoy," Arthur began reading from a parchment.  "You stand here accused of heinous crimes against both the wizarding and Muggle worlds.  You are charged with using each of the Unforgivable Curses many times.  You are charged with consorting with Death Eaters.  You are charged with the murder of my son, Ronald Weasley, Auror 1st Class.  You are charged with the brutal kidnapping and torture of Hermione Granger, Auror 1st Class.  How do you plead?"

Lucius looked calm and relaxed.  Sirius wanted to strangle him.

"You say I am guilty, Arthur.  Who am I to argue?  I only wish the fun hadn't stopped so soon," the silver-haired man drawled arrogantly.  A vein in Arthur's forehead began to throb angrily.

Dumbledore looked at Lucius with disappointment, shaking his head sadly.  Harry was a study in rage.  The Dementor…well, it looked rather hungry in Sirius' opinion.

"The petitioners may approach the accused," Arthur called in a tight voice, the parchment practically disintegrating in his ever-tightening grip.

Harry walked over to Lucius and looked at him for several moments before speaking.

"My only regret is that your son isn't here to join you," Harry whispered before turning and sitting down beside Sirius.  Lucius simply smiled.

Severus stood up but did not approach the prisoner.  He seemed to be debating what to say.

"At a loss for words, Severus?  You always were better holed up in your precious laboratory.  You're a pathetic excuse for a wizard…a disgrace to your family…to us all."

Severus, maintaining his composure, simply nodded.  "Coming from one such as yourself, Lucius, that is quite the compliment."

Lucius raised his eyebrows at that.  "It does not matter, Severus.  All your pretty words and potions will not save her.  I have made certain of that…and it was very enjoyable…oh yes…very, very enjoyable.  I was first, Severus!  Do you hear that?  I was first!  And you know what they say…you always remember the first!"

Harry jumped up with his wand out.  Arthur and Dumbledore screamed for order.  Sirius held Harry back and noticed that Severus was walking closer to Lucius, slowly and deliberately.  Leaning over, he whispered something in the condemned man's ears.  Lucius' expression fell and he began to struggle against the Aurors who were holding his arms.

"No!" He shouted as Severus stepped back and the Dementor approached.  "No!"

He began screaming as the Dementor lowered its hood and, taking his chin in its rotting hand, tilted his head upwards.

As the awful rattle of thickened suction began, Sirius turned his head away…unable to witness the final moments of Lucius Malfoy…

But he heard the screaming as the man's soul was consumed…

Sometime later, as they were walking towards the hospital infirmary, Harry turned to Severus.

"What did you whisper to him?" He asked shakily, still recovering from the experience.  They had been the first words spoken since they left the sentencing chamber.

Severus stopped for a moment outside the infirmary door.

"It is best if I show you," he said, his expression brightening.  He opened the door and there, sitting up in her bed, reading a book…

"Hermione!" 

_**************End of Flashback**************_

"He did not give up on her," Sirius suddenly commented.

"I beg your pardon, Padfoot?" Remus looked at his friend, rather puzzled at the sudden outburst.

"Why did it matter so much to him?  Everyone else had given up…said it was hopeless for Hermione to ever recover," Sirius drained his glass and turned to his friend.

"He's always been very stubborn," Remus commented wryly, still uncertain as to his friend's purpose. 

"I…I think it's something else…something Harry knows too," Sirius looked at his empty glass, running a finger along the edge.

Remus raised his eyebrows in an unasked question but Sirius was paying far too much attention to his empty glass to reply.

_"Is it possible?"_ Sirius wondered. 

_*************At the Apothecary's Shop*************_

Severus felt that the journey to the shop had taken far too long and dearly wished for a faster mode of transportation.  Getting off his horse quickly, he tied it to a nearby post and hurried into the little store that he had found thanks to a quick locating spell.

Inside, he immediately felt some sense of having come to a place where he belonged.  The very smell of the place was similar to that which permeated his stores room.  He glanced at the various items on display.  Fine powders in burlap sacks.  Various organic ingredients, such as eyes and kidneys, floating in neutral compounds; which would not adversely impact on their potency.  Dried griffin feet and manticore claws were hanging from the rafters.  Great sacks of beetle eyes and spider jaws were in one corner.  

And everywhere, there were people, dressed in the same dress as the time period, it seemed.  He could not tell if they were magical or not…there was so much magic in the air that it was difficult to tell.

"Excuse me, sir," a voice made Severus turn and he found himself facing a serious looking young man, perhaps late twenties.

"Do I know you, sir?" Severus asked.

"I don't believe we have met.  My name is St. John Rivers…I am a missionary, recently returned from the Far East.  You are Edward Rochester.  Everyone knows who you are," St. John smiled.

Severus did not return the smile.  He was in a hurry and there was something about the man that he did not like.  From his blue eyes to his fair hair…he reminded him of Gilderoy Lockhart…and those were not happy memories.

"You look a little lost.  Can I assist you with something?" St. John asked, a look of concern on his face.

"My…my governess has fallen ill with a high fever and I need to find something to help bring it down," Severus replied, looking over the ingredients.

"Ah…I see.  Curious to see you taking such a…personal interest in her welfare.  She is most fortunate in her choice of employers," the younger man said in a neutral tone.

Severus felt his temper begin to flare.  

"The ingredients for fever-reducing brews and poultices are over there, beside the dried bat wings.  I could offer you the assistance of my sisters…they are accomplished healers," St. John continued, oblivious to the storm brewing in the other man's eyes.

"I should be fine…thank you.  I have some small talent in brewing medicine…it will suffice," Severus replied curtly…scooping up some coarsely ground beetle legs into a small bag.

"Nonsense…they will be most offended if you refuse.  I will return home immediately and they should be at Thornfield by tonight," St. John waved his objections aside.

"Thank you but it is unnecessary."  The tone of finality in Severus' voice left no room for argument.

"I see.  Well, in that case, I will not trouble you any longer.  Good day and…good luck," St. John called out as he walked out of the shop.

Severus, gritting his teeth in indignation, returned to the business at hand of measuring out dragon scales.

"The nerve of some people," he hissed under his breath.

Returning to Thornfield, Severus quickly brought his newly purchased ingredients and equipment into his own chamber and methodically set about brewing a basic fever-reducing potion.  The familiar actions and environment calmed him somewhat…allowed him to focus on the task at hand rather than how frightened he really was.

Carefully decanting the amber-coloured liquid into a glass, he quickly cast a spell so that no one would notice the cauldron set up in the corner…or the various ingredients that were strewn around it.

Closing the door, he walked over to Hermione's room and knocked on the door.  Mrs. Fairfax came to the door and Severus immediately placed a Memory Charm on her and sent her to her own chambers, content in the belief that she had asked Leah to watch the patient.

After ensuring that the housekeeper was gone, Severus approached Hermione and, holding her up, made her drink the entire glass of the potion he had so carefully brewed.  It took some time…she was very weak and found it difficult to swallow.  When the glass was empty, he set her back down gently and waited.

Almost immediately, he could see that she stopped trembling…that her breathing became more relaxed and some colour returned to her pale cheeks.  He touched her throat and felt relieved that her pulse was no longer racing.  She seemed to be sleeping more comfortably...more at peace and less agitated.  He complimented himself on the addition of some lavender flowers…they would ensure that she had no further nightmares.

"You will sleep well tonight, Hermione," he whispered, looking down on her with such raw emotion in his expression that she must have felt it for she smiled suddenly in her sleep.  He kissed her forehead, barely brushing his lips against the now cool skin.  Sighing, he covered her carefully with the knit blanket and left only one candle burning so that she could rest.

He trudged out of the room, exhausted.  He had not slept since she had fallen ill.

"She has no need for anyone tonight.  Tomorrow, she will feel much better…and we will set out to find a way to return home," he thought wearily as he reached his room and went inside.  Collapsing on the bed…he was asleep in an instant.

*************Back in Hermione's room****************

The single candle sputtered for a moment before going out altogether.  Whispery beams of moonlight were the only source of light in the room.  Hermione slept on…peacefully unaware of two shadows that had not been there before.

"It is well you told me she was here," a female voice whispered.  "I had felt something amiss in the air but had not realized what it meant."

"Then you will take us both?" a male voice replied…he sounded fearful.

"Yes…you may have her and do what you will…I have no use for her.  No…my interests lie elsewhere," the shadowy woman hissed.

"Thank you."

The bed linens disappeared and Hermione floated towards the shadows, still sleeping.

"You will not be interfering any longer," the woman whispered hatefully to Hermione, not caring that the unconscious woman could not hear the resentment in her voice. 

With a puff of smoke, the trio vanished…leaving behind only moonbeams.

A/N:  I do not know for certain which houses the Marauders were sorted into although I have heard various theories.  I made a few assumptions that may be disproved at a later date.


	9. And the Lady Vanished

**_Disclaimer_**_: Anything you recognize belongs to the goddess, JKR or it could belong to Charlotte Bronte or possibly Jane Austen. Only the convoluted plot belongs to me.  I can't remember where I have heard this title but I am reasonably certain it does not belong to me and I am too tired to look it up.  _

Chapter 9:  And the Lady Vanished 

It was very early in the morning and Severus became painfully aware that he had been sleeping in entirely the wrong position.  His neck was sore…his back was sore and his temperament could hardly have been termed as either cheerful or chipper.

"Why do the birds have to sing so loudly this morning?" He grimaced as he slowly stretched in his bed and got up groggily, noting that he had slept in his clothes…a very uncomfortable feeling.

He had the unnerving sensation of recovering from a Dark Curse but that made no sense at all in the present context.

"Nothing makes much sense this early in the morning," he muttered and decided that a short ride on horseback would clear the cobwebs from his mind…after a change of clothes and a quick wash.  Yes, the fresh air would do him a world of good.

Throwing on a warm cloak, he stopped by Hermione's door momentarily.  It was quiet.  She was obviously still sleeping.

"I'll be back very soon…then we will have breakfast together and you can scold me soundly for taking you out in such frightful weather," he whispered, touching the door softly with his fingers.  He smiled, knowing that any such outburst would be short-lived.  Hermione did not hold grudges over such trivial matters.

Hurrying outside, he was pleased to see that the weather was more seasonable.  Cold, yes…but no freak rainstorms when snow was more in order.

His horse was ready in minutes and soon Severus experienced the kind of freedom that one only feels when riding a horse at breakneck speed.  It was sheer bliss to be able to leave behind all the worries and fears he had felt over the past couple of days and simply concentrate on the wind in his face and the changing landscape.

"I would have liked this much better if Hermione had accompanied me," he thought to himself suddenly, remembering how her hair streamed out behind her as she rode.  He realized that it was something they could do when they returned home.

Reining his horse to a stop, Severus dismounted and walked with the stallion to a nearby stream.

"Drink up…it will be frozen over soon enough," he murmured softly, rubbing the horse's nose affectionately…he had grown rather fond of the stallion.

Looping the reins around the branch of a tree, Severus walked about for a bit.  The scenery was not beautiful but it was much nicer than some of the places he had been to…including Malfoy Mansion with its carefully manicured lawns and impeccably arranged gardens.

"But it is not Hogwarts…the shimmering lake…the dark shadows of the Forbidden Forest…the quiet solitude of the Astronomy Tower…the almost palpable silence of the Library…the sanctuary of the dungeons.  I miss it," he thought to himself as he sat down on a large rock.  He wondered if Hermione missed it as much as he did.  She probably did…it was her home, after all.  

Just as it was his…the only place that had ever felt like home. 

He found himself thinking of Harry and Black and Lupin.  He missed them too.

"Yes, even you, Black.  You certainly give life a distinct flavour," he smirked.

He thought of Ron and the smirk disappeared.  He had respected the young man and his death had been hard on everyone…especially Harry.  Severus vividly remembered having to go with Dumbledore to the Burrow in order to break the terrible news to Arthur and Molly.  Ginny had fainted but surprisingly, it had been Percy who had taken the news the hardest.  Severus firmly believed that the former Head Boy had always felt that the younger children, especially Ron and Ginny, were his responsibility.

"And Percy always took his responsibilities so seriously," Severus muttered, trying to clear his mind of the pain in Percy's eyes…

Arthur and Molly, pale, shaking with unshed tears yet still proud, had thanked him when he gave them Ron's wand.  

Yes, that had been difficult, but Dumbledore had been with him.

Severus had been alone when he was forced to break the news to Hermione…and in many ways that was more difficult still…

_**************Flashback**************_

Three days had passed since Hermione had woken up.  Although recovering well physically, Severus was deeply concerned over her state of mind.  It was as if she were in denial over everything that had happened to her.  Either that, or her anger was so great that it would allow no release of her emotions.  Sometimes she would cringe when he would sit next to her…sometimes he found her holding his hand as he read…

She had asked him to read to her as a way of passing the time.  She had told him how her mother used to read her stories of witches and wizards in faraway lands and how she used to laugh at them in delight, never once thinking that such things could be real.

But her mother was no longer alive to read her these stories and so the task, it appeared, had fallen to him.  Not that he minded.

"It helps me, you know," she said quietly as she lay in her little bed, the sheets pulled right up to her neck in an unconscious shielding gesture.

"Helps you with what, Hermione?" He asked, pulling out a copy of The Daily Prophet…the usual reading material for the morning.

"It is very calming…your voice, I mean," she closed her eyes.  "I could listen to your voice…listen to you reading for a very long time."

"Even if I were simply reciting from 'Moste Potente Potions?'" He asked, with an amused raise of his eyebrows.

"Even that," she replied.  "What does the Daily Prophet talk about today?"

"The usual sorts of things…gossip…more gossip…happenings at the Ministry…Fudge's latest blunders.  Oh, and the Chudley Cannons won their Quidditch match." Severus scanned the article to see the score.

"Ron must be happy about that," she commented, opening her eyes.

Severus looked at her, startled.

"Where has he been, Severus?  I haven't seen him since…since…well, for quite some time.  I asked Harry but he told me not to worry and to get some more rest.  I'd love to have a game of Wizard Chess with him," she straightened her sheets.

Something in the silence made Hermione look up at him.

"Severus?  What's wrong?"

"I had hoped that it would not be left to me…I am not well suited for this," he began to stammer.

"What do you mean?" Hermione started to look worried.  "Is Ron hurt?"

Severus looked at Hermione, who was sitting up now and looking quite frightened.  Quietly, he took her hand.

"Severus…please…tell me.  I'll believe you…you have never lied to me," she whispered, her eyes quickly filling with tears.

"I am so sorry, Hermione.  The night that you were brought…brought here, Ron saved Harry's life by pushing him out of the way of a Killing Curse…he…he got hit instead," Severus felt that wave of nausea again as he recalled the vacant brown eyes looking at him.

"Who was it?" Her voice shook with anger and grief, tears were streaming quietly over her pale cheeks.

"Lucius Malfoy.  He was given the Dementor's Kiss…I witnessed it myself."

Hermione began gasping, hyperventilating…sobbing and hiccoughing at the same time.  She seemed to be trying to say something but no words would come out.

Severus, not knowing what else to do, embraced her and held her close to him.  For several long moments, they held onto one another…Hermione shaking with anguish and sobbing brokenly.  Severus, unable to do anything else, simply kept her in his arms…offering quiet comfort and security and hoping that it might be enough.

It took a long time for the trembling to subside.

"He cared about you a great deal, Hermione," Severus murmured into her hair.  "He cared about Harry.  We have to be strong for Harry…right now.  He is very upset by what has happened.  You are all he has left, in a way.  You have to find a way to carry on…and I know you will."

"You have far too much confidence in me, Severus," she managed to snuffle, still holding onto him tightly.  "I am all books and cleverness…and I am so broken inside…shards of glass cutting my soul into shreds…I don't think I'll…I'll ever be whole again.  Part of me belonged to him, Severus.  He was my best friend…oh, gods…Ron…"

She began to cry again, her body trembling with pain and, once again, all Severus could do was hold her and comfort her.  All the tried and true words of consolation were stuck in his throat…they seemed so inadequate.  All he wanted was to see her smile again.  Not now…it was not possible now…the wounds, both physical and emotional, were too raw…too fresh.  But later…when the first waves of grief had settled into the relative calm of acceptance.

"You will be all right, Hermione.  You have great strength inside you.  As much as it pains me to say it, you were sorted into Gryffindor for a reason."

"Just as Ron was?" She asked, pulling away from his embrace and looking at him…her eyes were red from crying and she was still hiccoughing sporadically.

"Just as Ron was…and Harry as well," Severus affirmed, wiping away several errant tears with his thumb.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

"For telling me the truth…and not treating me with kid gloves.  It means a great deal to me, Severus.  You are…you are a good friend."

For a moment, the very silence was charged with something more than magical.

He patted her hand gently, trying to calm his pounding heart.  "As are you, Hermione."

_"More than you could ever know_," he thought sadly.

_*****************End of Flashback*****************_

It had seemed strange to be the one she turned to for comfort but perhaps it had been for the best.  She was able to cry in his arms and then be strong for Harry.  And Harry had needed her strength…losing Ron was the worst thing that had ever happened to him and he carried the guilt for a long time…carried it still although it was not so obvious to see.

"At least he did not lose you as well, Hermione," he whispered, picking up a twig and snapping it, throwing both pieces to the ground.  "I don't know if he could have dealt with that."

Standing up, he felt much better.  The cool morning air had done its work and he felt that he was not blurry around the edges any longer.  It was time to return to Thornfield and wake its sleeping mistress…so to speak.

He mounted his horse and turned towards the building that was his temporary home.

He arrived as mid-morning approached and quickly walked into the dining room, depositing his cloak on a back chair.  Mrs. Fairfax entered and frowned slightly at the muddy cloak but said nothing.  Rather surprised not to see Hermione already eating breakfast, he shrugged and walked to her room.  He knocked quietly.

Nothing.

"That's odd…she should be awake by now," Severus thought, rather puzzled.

He knocked again, a little louder.

Still nothing.

Looking up and down the corridor to ensure no one was watching, Severus tried the handle on the door.

Locked.

Why on earth would it be locked?

Worried now, Severus pulled out his wand and whispered, "Alohomora."  The handle turned and the door opened.  Severus, still with his wand out, walked into the room.

Everything seemed all right…except that Hermione…and her bed linens…were missing.

Severus looked around the room, checking in the closets, behind the curtains…anywhere she might have hidden herself.

Nothing.

She was gone.

"But if the door had been locked from the inside…how is it possible?" He walked over to the window and saw that it was securely fastened from the inside as well.

A cold tendril of dread encircled Severus' heart.  Turning suddenly, he raced out of her room and ran to Bertha's small chamber.  Thankfully, she was alone…but she was unconscious.

"Bertha!  Bertha!  Wake up…please wake up.  She's gone…I can't find her anywhere," Severus shook her to no avail.  He quickly pointed his wand at her.  "Enervate!"

Bertha opened her eyes immediately and stood up when she saw Severus.

"She's taken her, hasn't she?"

Severus gaped in surprise.  "What are you talking about?"

Bertha paced frantically…a growing wildness in her eyes.  "She was here…she was laughing at me…took away my wand and laughed."

"Who was here?"

"Blanche Ingram."

Severus looked at Bertha, shaking his head helplessly.  "Who on earth is that?"

Bertha looked positively vicious.  "A would-be Mrs. Rochester.  Only interested in the family fortune.  She is also a witch…as dark as they come.  She has been after you for years and would have no scruples about taking your companion."

"Merlin's teeth, Bertha.  She…she kidnapped Hermione?" Severus asked, outraged and angry.

"She flaunted her whole plan to me…said that she was bringing the little governess to be with someone who truly deserved one such as she.  As for herself, Blanche said that with your companion out of the way, she would be free to make…a connection with you."

"But…you are my wife…so to speak.  Would that not be immoral?"  He was absolutely flabbergasted.

"She is not a moral creature when it comes to money."  Bertha replied tightly.  "And she was not alone."

"Who else was with her?"

"I don't know…whoever it was hid in the shadows and had no magical aura.   It was a man, I believe…perhaps the one that Blanche planned to gift with your companion," Bertha practically hissed.  It was apparent that there was no love lost between the two witches.

"Where has she taken Hermione?"

"I can show you…but be careful.  Blanche is a powerful witch…she knows a great deal of Dark Magic and will not hesitate to use it if it furthers her means," Bertha spotted her wand on the floor and picked it up.  She created a map of the surrounding countryside and showed Severus exactly where he had to go.  "It is best to travel by horse…it will not alert her to your presence." 

"Thank you…it seems so inadequate but it is all I can say," Severus grabbed her hand and held it tightly.

"Go…find her and you will find a way to return to your world.  All I ask…all I can ask…is that you do not hide your feelings for her.  The mask you are trying to wear does not suit you and she deserves to know the truth," Bertha replied seriously.

Severus nodded gravely and then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Bertha looked out the window as Severus mounted his horse and raced off in the direction she had earlier indicated.

_"And then perhaps, she will tell you the truth as well,"_ she thought to herself. 


	10. Thwarted Desires

**_Disclaimer:  _**_Anything you recognize belongs to the goddesses, JKR or Charlotte Bronte.  _

**Chapter 10****:  Thwarted Desires**

She could still taste the potion in her mouth.  As Hermione slowly regained consciousness, she noticed that she tasted a variety of odd things.  Licking her lips, she tasted the remnants of honey, lavender flowers…powdered root of midnight roses.

_"Severus,"_ she thought to herself with a small sigh.

She was still too tired and far too comfortable to open her eyes.   Her memory was hazy, rather piece-meal…she vaguely remembered Mrs. Fairfax and Leah and Grace.  Yes, she certainly remembered being bled…that had hurt.  She had felt the pain but was too sick to cry out.  It was a horrible sensation…like a form of torture.

_"And, all the while, they felt they were doing the right thing,"_ she thought quietly, a slight frown appearing on her brow.

Hermione licked her lips again, moving her head to one side.  She was very thirsty…her mouth felt rather sandy.  She assumed that it was the after-effect of the potion that Severus had given her.  A small price to pay for feeling so much better.

"Would you like a glass of water?"  The voice came from very close by…her hearing was obviously still rather muffled from sleep…she had almost thought…

"Yes…that would be lovely," she sighed contentedly.  Still heavy with sleep, she felt someone touch a glass to her lips and she drank greedily.

"Not too much at once…slowly, now," the voice spoke again.

She drank again, taking slow deliberate sips of the cool water.  It relieved the tightness in her throat and dryness in her mouth.  When there was no more, the glass was taken away and she sank into the soft comfort of her pillow.  She could hear footsteps…and an unfamiliar scent.

"Thank you, Severus," she whispered, quite willing to go back to sleep.

There was a short laugh…it made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up…reminding her suddenly of Wormtail.

"I am not Severus, my dear.  Nor am I Edward."  She felt the bed move and a sudden warmth…of someone next to her.  

Struggling, Hermione opened her eyes.  In the bright midmorning light, it took several seconds before her eyes could focus on the man who was sitting on her bed with a cruel smile on his face.  Fully awake now, she gasped and backed away from him in fear…her hand automatically reaching for her wand…and not finding it.

"Looking for this?" He held out her wand teasingly, dangling it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Who are you?"

"I think you already know the answer to that question," he leaned closer to her…causing Hermione to shrink away from him even further.

"How should I know who you are?  Where am I?  Where have you taken me?"

The man stood up and smirked.  "You are no longer at Thornfield."

"That," she replied tightly, pulling the bed sheets tightly around her, "is plainly obvious."

He suddenly leaned down and looked at her appraisingly.  "Don't you know who I am?"

Hermione took a closer look at the stranger.  Fair hair and blue eyes which sparkled like ice…she was suddenly reminded of Lucius Malfoy…that same coldness…that same capacity for cruelty.  Hermione shrank as far away as possible from the man.

And then she realized who it must be.

"St. John Rivers!" She exclaimed.

"Very good, Jane…yes," St. John nodded and straightened, crossing his arms over his chest.  "Yes, I am your suffering cousin."

Hermione was not certain whether or not the man knew who she really was.

"I thought you went on missionary work in the Far East," she commented, meeting his eyes and not flinching in revulsion.  Her thoughts went back to Severus.  Was he all right?  How had she gotten here?  And where exactly was she?

"I have only recently returned…the Lord's work is tedious and the weather far too hot for one such as myself.  Being a sacrifice to some outdated set of rules of conduct lost its panache."

"You gave up…did you find you could not save any heathen souls…or were they put off by your pleasing personality," Hermione was getting angry.

"Temper.  Temper, my dear Jane," he drawled.

"Where am I?"

"Oh, well as to that, you are at the country home of my dear friend, Blanche Ingram," St. John walked over to the window and looked outside for a moment. 

"Blanche Ingram is your friend?" Hermione asked incredulously.

 "Oh, yes…she is indeed my friend.  A powerful friend.  Always a good idea to have powerful friends.  She was the one to bring you here.  A bit of a trade, you could say."

Hermione's mouth opened in shock.  "What have you done with…Edward?  Where is he?"

"He probably does not even know you are missing yet, dear Jane," St. John smirked, brushing some hair away from his eyes.

"You hate him," Hermione whispered, eyeing the fair-haired man warily.

"Of course I hate him!  I would have thought that to be blatantly obvious.  The great Edward Rochester.  The proud, puissant brute of a man.  Wealthy.  Fearsome temper.  Handsome.  Could have had any woman he wanted…"

"Except…" Hermione ventured, a small spark of hope igniting in her heart.

"Except, for some reason which defies any logical explanation, he decided on you.  A woman of no family and no connections and no money."

"You make it sound as if these are the only things that matter," Hermione replied quietly.

"Oh, I apologize but I am not one of those who believes in love eternal.  I do not quote Shakespearian sonnets in my spare moments or go traipsing around sighing and swooning over a woman who is seemingly unattainable.  I am a practical man, dear Jane.  If I want someone, I have them."

_"And you call Severus…or Edward, rather, a brute of a man,"_ she thought to herself, wishing that she had her wand.

"Affairs of the heart are fickle and tiresome.  After all…it is all about those brief moments of physical pleasure…and the ability to pay for more."

"What about Blanche?" Hermione asked, struggling to keep her voice from shaking.

"She has been after Edward Rochester for a very long time.  And Blanche Ingram is not the sort of witch to sit idly by while a governess of no good account steals him away," St. John replied, still looking out the window.

"Blanche is a witch?"

"Yes, dear Jane," he turned back to her.  "She is a very powerful witch…very powerful.  It would not do to upset her.  Bad things happen to people who upset her."

"She is a Dark Witch," Hermione spat out, disgusted.

"Well, I suppose you could look at it that way.  I do not see Light and Dark or Good and Evil.  Once, long ago, I did see these things…as I worked in the Lord's name, trying to make some impression on the world with my limited resources.  But these are illusory ideas that have no bearing in reality.  Now, I see the truth.  I see power…those who have it…as well as those who don't.  I prefer to stick with those who have it," St. John explained, his eyes glittering madly.

"What about you?  Are you a Dark Wizard as well?" Hermione asked, shuddering with revulsion.

A curious mélange of expressions crossed St. John's face.  Rage.  Disgust.  Fear.  In a moment, he managed to control himself, although Hermione noticed that his fists were clenched tightly.

"I have no magical ability…that particular gift went to my sisters but not to me," he replied in a voice that harboured deep resentment…he was practically snarling.

_"He's a squib?"_ Hermione thought to herself in surprise.  She relaxed somewhat…at least he would not be able to curse her.

"My wonderful, perfect sisters.  Oh yes.  I have heard all the lovely things that have been said about them.  They are healers, Jane.  They offer their services to the community, particularly the poor and the destitute.  Trying to make a difference in their pathetic, useless lives.  They are touted as good Samaritans…never taking a fee for the comfort that they bring.  Always a smile for each dirty brat of a child.  No one is beneath them…not even the filth-encrusted beggar in the streets."

He banged one fist against the wall repeatedly…causing the room to shake somewhat.  A vase on a nearby table toppled over and fell to the ground…shattering into many pieces.  Hermione put her hands over her ears and closed her eyes.

When the shaking stopped, she opened her eyes slowly and put her hands down.  He looked spent…weary for a moment…as if all the energy that had sustained the outburst was all the energy he had to give.  He turned to her and she was surprised to see that the rage and the anger were still there.

"All my life…no one has ever had anything to say to me.  It was always my sisters this and my sisters that.  I was nothing.  I was less than nothing," he said quietly.

"But your sisters…they…they never mistreated you," Hermione ventured…uncertain as to what she should say and hoping she was not inadvertently dragging the conversation into more dangerous waters.

"Oh, they were very nice to me," St. John replied derisively.  "I could see the pity in their eyes.  I could see that they thought themselves so much better than me…just because they could do a bit of silly wand waving and I could not.  And I tried…I tried everything.  Nothing.  Not one bloody spark of ability."

He held out her wand that he had been holding in his other hand and waved it.  Nothing happened.  It was like an ordinary stick of wood in his hands.  For just a brief moment, Hermione felt sorry for him.

"You see?  Nothing.  Useless.  Always useless.  But not any longer.  Now, people will have to pay attention to me," he eyed her like a predator about to pounce.  "Now I have Blanche.  She understands me.  She listens to me.  She makes me feel as if I am useful.  It is not within her power to give me magical abilities but there are other compensations.  I give her what she wants…and I get what I want."

"What does she want?"

St. John raised his eyebrows in surprise.  "Why, you stupid woman, she wants Edward Rochester…at least, she wants his money…his entire estate."

Hermione's heart leapt into her mouth and she had to take a moment before she trusted herself to speak.  "And you, St. John.  What do you want?"

"I want the one thing that has been denied me before.  I want you, Jane…and I am willing to do anything to get you," he pocketed her wand and grinned at her insolently.

"Including taking me by force?" She asked, her chin high and her eyes blazing.

"I prefer to look at it as exercising my duties as a future husband.  After all, the vows of marriage include obedience.  And you will learn obedience, Jane," he walked towards the bed and sat down upon it.

"Bastard," she practically hissed at him.

St. John smiled again.  "Yes, that is exactly what my dear father thought when I was born.  Unfortunately, I am just as much his child as I am my mother's.  He thought he treated me just as he did my sisters but I could see through his artifice.  I am not a fool…I could practically smell his insincerity.  I was a disappointment to him…the only son and heir…with no magical ability.  Well, I will show him…I will show them all!"

Suddenly, St. John pounced on her, pushing her down to the bed and pinioning her wrists with his hands.  Hermione struggled and screamed…his laughter provoking a terrible reaction inside her.  She had heard similar laughter before and she desperately tried to free herself from his vice-like grip.

"Poor little Jane…all alone and without a wand to play with," he whispered as he leaned down to kiss her throat.  

"You can't keep me here!  I don't belong here!  My home is elsewhere!" Hermione began to scream, tears in her eyes as she tried to kick at him in an effort to get him off of her.   She bit his hair and pulled hard, making him shout with anger.

"Slattern!" He yelled at her as he slapped her soundly across the face, making her see stars…more tears springing to her eyes.

With a grunt, St. John let go of her suddenly and stood up, rearranging his clothing as if nothing had happened.   Hermione massaged her cheek gingerly.  She tried to hold back the tears…trying to dredge up some of that celebrated Gryffindor strength and courage.

"Tears, Jane?  Really, you should not be crying.  After all, weddings are said to be a happy occasion."

"Whose wedding?"  Hermione asked, wiping at her eyes and imagining the many ways she would kill him if she had her wand.

"Why ours, dear Jane," St. John replied happily.

Hermione glared at him.  "I will never marry a man such as yourself."

"Damned hypocrite of a woman.  You're no better than my sisters for all their supposed saintliness.  You think I am somehow less of a man simply because I can't perform magic?" His expression was one of growing fury.

"You are not a man…magical or not.  And besides, my heart belongs to another," Hermione declared.

St. John laughed…a cruel sound that hurt Hermione's ears.  "How quaint.  Your heart belongs to that fool, Rochester.  I don't want your heart, Jane.  He can have that.  I want the rest of you."

Hermione's eyes opened in shock.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Dare what, dear Jane," St. John mocked as he looked at her.  "Dare take what Rochester has obviously taken again and again.  I saw him down at the apothecary's shop…searching frantically for the ingredients for a fever-reducing medicine.  Strange to see an employer taking such trouble for nothing more than a paid servant.  Or are your wages paid by other means?"

"I will not dignify such accusations with a reply," Hermione was mortified although a secret part of her was deliriously happy.  Severus had been worried about her…had ventured out of Thornfield in an effort to save her.  Did that mean that he cared about her…perhaps as more than just a friend?

"It does not matter…you are no longer bound to him…you will enter into a new contract with me.  You will be my bride, Jane.  You will be mine and, in time, you will learn to appreciate my…many redeeming qualities."

And that was when Hermione felt something strange…St. John was blurring slightly around the edges.  And her mouth felt dry again.  She swayed slightly as she sat and looked around herself in alarm.

"What is happening to me?" She shouted in a sudden panic, feeling dizzy…her vision slowly blurring even further.  Had he poisoned her?  Was she dying?

"There are many non-magical ways to induce cooperation, Jane.  The water that you so hastily drank was laced with a powerful variant of the drug opium.  It is highly addictive…take it three or four times and your body begins to crave it so desperately that your mind will think of nothing else.  Not food…not water…not your own scruples about the man who is making love to you…as long as you have it."

Hermione fell back onto the bed…her mind flying…her heart racing…vision almost completely foggy.

"I will have you, dear Jane…and I will make you so dependent on me that you will not be able to imagine life without me in it," St. John laughed in triumph as the blackness consumed Hermione's vision.

"Severus…" she thought dazedly, feeling the rush of chemicals in her blood…like being on Harry's Firebolt during a Quidditch match…helpless to stop the traitorous thought…that she wanted this again.

The last thing she heard before succumbing to the whirling darkness was the sound of icy cold laughter…and, in her drug-hazed mind, it sounded exactly like Lucius Malfoy.


	11. Old Wounds and New

**_Disclaimer_**_:  Anything you recognize belongs to the goddesses:  JKR or Charlotte Bronte.  This plot belongs to me._

**Chapter 11:****  Old Wounds and New**

In all his years as a Death Eater and, later on, as a spy for Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape had experienced more than his fair share of dire situations.  He knew very well what it felt like to arrive somewhere an instant too late and discover that someone had suffered terribly because of it.

He remembered several instances when he had received information about Death Eater activity and had disapparated to investigate…only to find…death, destruction and the accursed Dark Mark floating high in the sky.  It still felt as if those deaths were on his conscience and he often acknowledged, after a few glasses of Ogdens, that he was to blame…the responsibility was solely his own.  Sometimes he had felt that living with such guilt was hardly a life at all…but he had always found a reason to continue…even when he dared not admit it to himself.

Now, racing on horseback, trying to save her life…he felt himself going back in time…a sense of déja vu that did not sit well with him.  The past held many memories that were not pleasant.

Straining to keep his focus and his composure, Severus urged the horse onwards, ignoring the flecks of foam that clearly indicated that he was driving it too hard.  

_"I am not going to let it happen again,"_ he thought to himself, fighting down the boiling nausea in his stomach_.  "I will not lose her."_

_*************Flashback***************_

Severus Snape shuddered as he approached the house; the Dark Mark was clearly visible…mocking him for being too late…again.  He thought that it was over…that, with the apparent defeat of the Dark Lord, everyone was safe.

He was wrong.

He already knew what he would find inside…and it still terrified him.  One never became accustomed to the vacant stare of the dead…the handiwork of an Avada Kedavra curse.  He was glad that it still bothered him…that the bile still rose to his throat…it meant he still retained some shred of humanity…that he was not like them.

The thought did not please him overly much.

Stepping into the house, he noticed that it was quiet…and the house had not been damaged.  That was odd.  Very odd.

_"Perhaps they did not have enough time to do the job properly,"_ he thought scathingly. _ "Bastards."_

Wand out, he walked through a door that was barely hanging on its hinges.

"Lumos," he whispered as the tip of his wand began to glow.

He walked through the short corridor to the parlour, warily looking in all directions as if he expected to be cursed into extinction at any moment.  Everything seemed almost…well, normal.  Except Severus knew there was little possibility of that.

Turning to enter the parlour, he nearly dropped his wand in shock.

"Frank?" He gasped, running over to the man, who was clearly still alive.  Severus, his heart in his throat, helped the shaking Auror onto the sofa.  

"Frank?  What happened?  Who did this to you?"  Severus could not believe that whoever it was had not killed the man.  Frank Longbottom was a well-known and popular Auror, responsible for putting many Death Eaters in Azkaban.

Conjuring a glass of water, Severus tried to get the man to drink.  It was very difficult…almost as if he had forgotten how to drink from a glass.

"Frank?  Are you all right?  Where is your wife?  Where is your son?"  Severus looked into Frank's eyes and…saw…nothing.

"Gods…no!" Severus exclaimed hoarsely.  Pulling out a Revitalizing Potion, he quickly forced it down the man's throat.

Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  No spark of recognition…only chaotic oblivion in those eyes.

Frank Longbottom, Auror, husband and father…one of the few Aurors who had truly believed in him…was worse than dead and beyond any help.

Feeling numb, Severus settled Frank on the sofa and then began to search the rest of the house.  Frank's wife was in the kitchen, sitting on the floor, in front of the sink…rocking back and forth silently.  When Severus looked into her eyes…he saw the same void that he saw in Frank's.

_"Where is the boy?"_ Severus wondered in a sudden panic.  It would not have been beyond the Death Eaters to have killed the lad in front of his parents.

He hurried up the stairs to the bedrooms.  The larger one was empty but the smaller one was not.

Severus walked into the little bedroom and approached the bed quietly.  A child was lying, curled up in his blankets, arms around a small Puffskein who was cooing softly into his ear.  There were wards around the bed…silencing wards.

"Always thinking ahead, Frank," Severus whispered as he removed them.

For a moment, he feared the worst but, as he got closer, he saw the steady rise and fall of the boy's chest.  Feeling uncomfortable, he maneuvered the boy into his arms, the Puffskein protesting slightly.  

"Neville?  Wake up, Neville," Severus called awkwardly…he did not feel particularly comfortable around children.

The little round-faced boy yawned, rubbed at his eyes with his chubby hands and then looked up at him sleepily.  When he noticed who was holding him, he began to scream at the top of his lungs.  Severus tried to calm him but the child would not stop…crying and screaming and struggling to get away from him.

"Well…it would appear that you have not been harmed," he said to the bawling boy.  Despite his exasperation with having his eardrums sorely tested, he was relieved that the little one had been spared.  The Death Eaters had been too intent on other matters to consider him.  Being overlooked wasn't always a bad thing, it would appear.

"Mama!  Mama!  Wan' Mama!"  Neville cried, his face blotchy with tears.

Merlin's teeth. 

Muttering a sleeping spell quickly, Severus waited until Neville was completely still before disapparating to the gates of Hogwarts.  He didn't know where else to go but he knew that Poppy and Neville's mother were good friends.

Yes, she would know what to do.

After bringing the sleeping boy to the infirmary and the requisite debriefing with the Headmaster, Severus staggered into his chambers and let loose the anguish he had kept inside since he saw that Frank Longbottom was no longer the man he knew.

And the dungeons shuddered with the sound of his guilt and his sense of loss.

Once again…he had been too late…

_***************End of Flashback***************_

Severus shook his head to clear away the memories.  He had been so awful to the boy when he arrived at Hogwarts.  His own guilt and years of pent-up bitterness just seemed to burst out of him each time Neville made a cauldron explode.  In his heart of hearts, Severus knew that he should have shown more compassion and understanding…living with Neville's grandmother could not have been easy…but he was human and he treated Neville rather cruelly.  It had taken years for him to realize what he was doing to himself and to the others around him…and a couple of years more to realize why he had stopped.

_"Oh, Hermione…I should have had the courage to tell you,"_ he thought miserably.  _"If anything were to happen to you…"_

Gritting his teeth, Severus raced towards the mansion, not caring if the horse would drop dead from exhaustion.  Not caring about anything except getting to her in time.

Reining the tired animal to a stop, Severus dismounted quickly and it automatically hobbled over to the stables.  Clenching his wand tightly in his right hand, he approached the building cautiously.  Nothing seemed amiss and there was no sign of anything magical.  Still, one could never be too careful and so Severus walked up to the main entrance with trepidation.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside and looked around quickly.  Nothing except furniture and paintings.  Very expensive and not to Severus' taste at all.  Far too gaudy.

And then he noticed all the candles that were burning…the smell of perfumed wax filled the air and almost made him feel sick to his stomach.  Too heavy…pungent…like cheap perfume…almost choking.

"I see you have arrived," a drawling voice made him look down the corridor.  He could vaguely make out the tall form of a woman.

"Miss Ingram?" He called boldly.  "I believe you have something of great value to me."

"Come into the parlour, sir," the form disappeared into a room.  Keeping his wand ready, Severus followed.

Blanche Ingram was a striking woman.  Pale, smooth skin with dark hair and intense eyes.  She was tall and proportioned well.  But, when Severus looked into her eyes, he was suddenly reminded of Narcissa Malfoy…cold, calculating and cruel.  This was a not a person to be trifled with or trusted.

"Are you afraid of me?" She asked, a mocking lilt in her voice.

"I have encountered many Dark Wizards and Witches, Miss Ingram.  You are not the worst I have had the misfortune to meet," he replied dismissively.

A brief expression of rage crossed the woman's face.  "You are too late, you know.  I have given her to St. John."

"She was not yours to give," Severus hissed.

"And was she yours?" Blanche looked at him archly, daring him to acknowledge the truth of his feelings.

"You know I am not Edward.  Just as you know that she is not Jane.  Have you told your little friend this piece of news?"

"And spoil the fun?  Don't be absurd.  If it suits my purpose to conceal information then I do so," Blanche pulled a wand out of her sleeve.

"You do realize, Miss Ingram, that I cannot allow you to keep her?" Severus asked, wand pointed directly at her.

"And you realize, sir, that I will not allow anyone but myself to have you and your lovely fortune," she replied archly.

"I am flattered you think so highly of me, Miss Ingram," Severus smirked without humour.

"Do not think that you are so powerful, sir.  I can easily ensnare your senses and bewitch your mind to believe anything I want you to believe."

A cold shudder went up his spine.  What was she talking about?

She whispered something and a frigid blue mist filled the room.  It cleared in an instant and Severus, feeling somewhat dizzy, was stunned to see that Blanche had disappeared and, standing in one corner, was…

"Hermione?  Is…is that really you?" Severus put his wand down just a little…wishing his mind would clear.

Hermione began to cry uncontrollably and rushed to him, embracing him tightly.  "At last…you found me."

Severus, feeling confused, put one arm around her shoulders…something was not right.  Was it really her?

"She was awful…terrible…and St. John…a brute of a man," she sobbed into his chest.  "I missed you so much."

She looked up at him and he saw the fear in her eyes…the tears staining her cheeks.

"It's all right now…I'll never leave you again…I promise," he leaned towards her and kissed her deeply on the lips.  She responded immediately, pressing herself against him…arms around his neck…fingers playing with his hair.

Severus closed his eyes and moved his hand over her arm…tracing teasingly down to the wrist…and back up again, pulling at her sleeve to touch the skin beneath.  She shivered…and sighed into his mouth.

With a quick movement, Severus pushed her away from him.

"What…what did I do wrong?" She asked, her hair slightly disheveled and her lips swollen.

"There is no wound," he said, wiping his mouth in disgust and pointing his wand at her arm.

"What…what are you talking about?"

"The wound…from being bled…a crude incision made by an even cruder instrument.  I did not heal it magically as I did not wish to rouse any suspicions among the staff.  It was a clever idea, Miss Ingram…but you are not as intelligent as you might have thought," Severus smirked as Hermione vanished, leaving a very irate Blanche in her place.

"Worthless bastard!" She hissed as she pulled her arm out of his grasp.

"I have been called worse, Miss Ingram."

"You will not have Jane!" A voice from behind him forced Severus to take his eyes off Blanche.  St. John was standing there with what Severus recognized to be a pistol in his hand.

"Fool of a man!" Severus summoned the pistol and quickly transfigured it into a hair comb.  St. John seemed beside himself with fury.

He then heard a curse and felt himself flying across the parlour and crashing into the wall.  Dazed with pain and tasting blood in his mouth, Severus raised his wand and launched a jelly legs curse at the hysterical witch.  She easily deflected it with a shielding spell.  She then launched a fireball at him, which he doused with a water charm.  He managed to crawl behind a table and considered his options.

Blanche did no such thing and started launching curse after curse.  The very air in the room was alight with the sparkling trails of dark magic.  Out of the corner of his eye, Severus could see St. John cringing in fear.

"I will kill you for spurning me…delight in your screams of pain as I send you into the hereafter!" She screamed as she launched another curse at him.

Bruised and bleeding, Severus decided he had to take matters into his own hands.

"Obliviate!" He yelled, aiming the spell at her.  It hit and she crumpled to the ground.  Clearly, she had not been expecting that.  Shakily and with a great deal of discomfort, Severus got up from behind the table and made his way to the fallen form of the witch.  She was unconscious but, aside from a few scrapes and bruises, was unharmed.

"You have caused far too much trouble, Miss Ingram.  I am sending you to the stables under a Memory Charm…you will forget that any of this happened," he whispered, waving his wand and making her disappear.

He was about to look for Hermione when he felt a searing pain in his side.  Gasping, he turned to face St. John who was grinning manically.  Looking down, he realized that he had been stabbed.

"Who gets the pretty prize now, eh Edward?  I will ensure that she forgets all about how much she loves you…she will be mine…mine!"

"Oculae Nebulae!" Severus shouted.  A white film covered St. John's eyes…causing him to back away in terror, looking around in a panic.  He was blind and Severus did not feel it necessary to tell him it was only temporary.

"What have you done to me!?" St. John screamed, flailing his arms frantically.

"Where is she?!"  Severus called.

St. John tripped over a small table and was scrambling to his feet, still trying to get away from Severus.

"Where is she?!"

"Upstairs…in the third bedroom…my eyes…please don't hurt me… my eyes…" St. John stumbled, knocking over a vase.

"Expelliarmus!" Severus yelled angrily.

St. John was slammed into the wall and immediately slumped to the floor in an ungraceful and unconscious heap.  Severus gave him the same ministrations as he had to Blanche.  The stables were a fitting place for the evil beasts that they were. They deserved far worse for what they had done.

Clenching his teeth in pain, Severus pulled the knife out and threw it to the ground.  It was a deep cut, bleeding badly and he muttered a crude binding spell before racing up the stairs in search of Hermione.  Proper healing would have to wait.

In his haste, he did not notice the flames traveling the length of the heavy velvet curtains…

A/N:  One thing I would like to point out is the whole Severus-Neville dynamic, which is my own invention and not canon.  Yes, I have added a bit where Frank Longbottom believed in Severus and was something of a friend to our dear Potions Master.  So, why is Severus so terrible to Neville when the boy arrives at Hogwarts?  Well, Severus is human and he has become so bitter by the time Harry and the others have started school that he resents that Neville survived unscathed while his parents did not.  In some ways, this parallels what happened to Harry.  Anyway, it's one of many ways to look at it.  I'm sure we will find out more in the upcoming novels.

A/N2:  Thanks to textualsphinx for the idea of blinding St. John 


	12. Amor Ex Libris

**__**

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize belongs to one of the goddesses: JKR or Charlotte Bronte. The plot belongs to me.

****

Chapter 12: Amor Ex Libris

Severus dashed up the stairs, two or three at a time, and arrived at the door. He tried the handle but quickly discovered that it was locked.

"Alohomora!" He yelled…but strange amber sparks shot out of his wand. He looked at it for a moment in utter disbelief.

Shaking his head slightly, he pointed his wand again at the door.

"Alohomora!"

Again, those amber sparks. He took a closer look at his wand and noticed that the tip was damaged…cut.

"Blast that confounded Rivers," he muttered angrily as one of the sparks landed on his cheek, burning him and causing him to wince with sudden pain. "My wand is useless."

Rubbing at his cheek, Severus decided that he would have to use the more conventional approach. He took three steps back and then ran at the door, ramming it hard with his shoulder. It immediately gave way and both he and the door tumbled to the floor in a heap of dust and wood fragments. Blinking back the stars from the impact, he stood up and looked around the room.

Typical. More furniture and paintings that had probably cost a small fortune. Really, that Ingram woman had rather garish taste. And then he saw Hermione, and all thoughts of anything else immediately fled his mind.

She was lying in a four poster bed…asleep.

__

"How did she sleep through all that racket?" He thought to himself as he approached her. There were no wards in the room itself…no magical shielding of any sort except for the crude silencing wards that he had felt at the top of the stairs…and he wasn't quite sure how well they worked.

"Hermione?" He called softly. She did not stir. Sitting down beside her, he touched her hair. Her face was pale and her breathing was very shallow. He touched her wrist to check her pulse…it was slow and weak…almost unnoticeable. Severus frowned. Something was not right about all this and the symptoms were alarmingly familiar. If he did not know better, he would have come to the conclusion that she had been administered a Dreamless Sleep potion. But, that was impossible…wasn't it?

"Hermione? Can you hear me?" He called again, a little louder.

Her brow furled as if she were in deep thought. She began to move her head from side to side…licking her lips as if they were parched…her eyes remained closed. 

"Hermione? It's me…Severus. We have to get out of here," he shook her shoulders slightly in an effort to wake her.

This time her lips moved slightly…as if she were trying to speak. Leaning in closer to her, he tried to make out what she was saying.

"Sev….er….us….really…you?" She mumbled thickly.

Severus was becoming very concerned. What had that brute, Rivers, done to her? On a whim, he sniffed her breath cautiously. Nothing poisonous…but wait…something familiar…something dark, musky and dangerous.

Opium.

The fool had given her opium.

"I should have sent him clean through the wall. Blast…and I have no detoxifying potions with me." He held out his wand, pointed it at Hermione and prayed to whatever deity was listening to let him perform one spell…just the one…was it really too much to ask?

__

"Just one spell," he thought desperately. _"It would suffice."_

"Enervate," he whispered…frowning at the amber sparks that kept issuing from his wand's tip.

"Enervate," he said, more loudly this time…more amber sparks…and blue ones as well. That could not be good.

__

"Please," he thought as he closed his eyes. _"Please…I love her."_

Opening his eyes, he focused all his energy and thought on her.

"Enervate!" He shouted. 

Immediately, Hermione's eyes fluttered open in confusion. For a moment she simply blinked…trying to understand…

"Severus? Is…is it really you?" She asked, sitting up to rest a hand on his chest. "I've had so many…dreams…but they were only dreams…never real…"

Severus could not speak for a moment. He simply pulled her into an embrace and, for several moments, did not let her go.

Pulling away, he then looked at her in concern. 

"Are you all right, Hermione? He…he didn't…try…"

Hermione shook her head. "No, he did not…touch me but…he…he gave me opium."

"I know."

"No, you don't know…you don't understand…he wanted me to become dependent on it…and him. He wanted me to forget…"

And then she stopped…looking down at the bed linens in sudden interest.

Severus looked at her and something St. John had said earlier replayed itself in his mind.

__

"I'll make her forget how much she loves you."

Did she love him? Was it possible?

"We have to get out of here and return to Thornfield," Severus muttered as he stood up. "My wand has been damaged and is unreliable at best. Where is yours?"

"St. John took it…as a precaution. I guess he didn't want to be turned into a warty toad," Hermione got out of bed and suddenly felt awkward…she was still in her nightgown.

"You are being charitable…I would have done far worse. However, we have a bit of trouble because I cannot summon your wand with mine…I believe it has cast its last spell for the time being. Just a moment. There must be a robe or a cloak here somewhere," Severus, understanding immediately the source of her discomfort, rummaged through the closets until he turned up a heavy velvet cloak and some riding boots. "I sent your captors to the stables, memories suitably altered…perhaps we could retrieve your wand on our way to Thornfield. They will not be recovering consciousness for quite some time."

She smiled as she accepted the garment, pulling on the boots immediately as she had nothing on her feet. "Thank you, Severus…for coming after me." She pulled the cloak around herself and smiled shyly.

Severus was again struck by the fact that her eyes were filled with something that, for the life of him, filled his heart with newfound hope.

"You are welcome, Hermione. I would never have left you in the hands of that brute…you must know that."

She simply nodded then paused…an odd expression on her face.

"Do you smell something, Severus?"

Severus sniffed the air…yes; there was something in the air…something burning…

"This place is burning…we have to get out now!" Severus shouted, grabbing Hermione's wrist and pulling her out of the room. What they saw made their hearts drop. The lower level was engulfed in flames…and the fire was making their way up the stairs. The silencing wards worked better than he had thought. Damn Blanche Ingram!

Severus quickly looked up and down the corridor but quickly determined that the staircase in question was the only exit route…and it was now blocked. He cursed his useless wand and hurried Hermione back into her room, wishing he could at least close the door.

To her credit, she remained levelheaded and rational. She ran to the window and began pulling desperately at the handle.

"Blast! It's locked," she shouted as she pressed her face against the window. "There is a rose trellis just beneath this window…right to the ground! We could climb down…but the window…"

Severus wasted no time. "Get out of the way, Hermione!"

Picking up a rather pretentious looking gilt chair, he threw it at the window…it shattered the glass magnificently and left a rather jagged opening. Wrapping the bed linens around his arm, Severus quickly smashed away the rest of the glass until there was nothing left but the wooden frame.

"Step carefully over the broken glass, Hermione. I'll go down first…you follow me."

Hermione nodded nervously as she made her way back to the window. Severus stepped onto the sill and looked down. The trellis appeared to be well fastened to the wall of the building. He hoped that it would be strong enough to support both of them. Looking back at the doorway to the corridor and seeing the flames starting to lick the remnants of the door itself, he knew they had no other choice but to take the risk.

Taking a deep breath, he swung himself over the sill and grabbed hold of the trellis. Thankfully, it did not move very much and he slowly started to make his way down.

"Hermione!" He gasped. "Come down now!"

She appeared at the window and looked down at him…rather frightened.

"It will be all right…just put your feet at the junctures of the trellis…it will hold you!"

She stepped onto the sill but she still looked too hesitant.

"Do you trust me?"

"What?" She asked, confused by the question.

"Do you trust me, Hermione?" He shouted…the roar of the fire was becoming deafening. Severus worried that it would soon attract other people. They had to move quickly.

She looked at him with that intangible something that made his heart suddenly race.

"Yes, Severus! I do trust you! But I am so afraid!"

"I am right here…just take one step at a time. One step…and then another…and then one more…you can do this…you're a Gryffindor, remember?"

She gave him a wry smile and swung herself onto the trellis. Slowly and carefully, she started making her way down.

Severus came within several feet of the ground when he let go, falling to the soft earth with a dull thud. Looking up immediately, he was horrified to see flames starting to shoot out of the window…and Hermione wasn't even halfway down yet!

"Hermione!" He shouted.

She looked down at him and then looked up, screaming when she saw the flames starting to burn the trellis.

"Severus! Help! The trellis can't hold much longer!" She cried, trying to climb down more quickly but hampered by the heavy cloak.

"Jump, Hermione!"

"I can't!" She wailed…pulling vainly at the cloak to dislodge it from the trellis. It wouldn't move.

"You've not that far to go…I'll catch you. For pity's sake, woman, just jump!" He shouted.

She undid the fastenings of the cloak and threw off the cumbersome garment. With one fearful glance at Severus, she let herself drop. Screaming, she fell to the ground where Severus waited…hoping that he would be able to break her impact.

Severus felt all the wind knocked out of him as Hermione crashed onto him. He fell to the ground with her landing heavily on top of him and fought back against the sickening darkness that threatened to take him.

When he opened his eyes he saw Hermione looking at him in concern.

"Are you all right?" She asked, touching his cheek.

He winced slightly. "A few bruised ribs, I'd imagine. However, we have to get further away from the building…it's liable to explode."

She nodded, looking around the grounds…"The gardens…this way!" She pulled him to his feet and they ran as quickly as their feet could carry them.

A strange noise made them look back. The house trembled for a moment, a strange roaring sound intensifying in magnitude until…

KABOOM!!!

The explosion was horrific…pieces of glass, wood and other debris started hurtling out in all directions. Hermione saw a large piece of metal coming towards them and, instinctively, launched herself at Severus to knock him down to the ground. They tumbled down an embankment…finally coming to rest by a large copse of shrubbery, far away from the burning building…the crackles of burning wood not nearly as loud. 

Hermione sat up immediately, surprised to feel no pain. She turned to Severus and nearly gasped in fright.

He was unconscious…a nasty gash across his forehead was bleeding profusely. And there was more blood…coming from his side. She pulled away at his clothing and saw the stab wound that looked like more blood than wound.

"Oh no…Severus," she cried brokenly. Feeling absolutely helpless but knowing she was the only help there was to be had, she tore several strips from the hem of her nightgown and wiped away the blood on his forehead. She tried her best to pack some of the torn cotton into the wound in an effort to stop the bleeding but her fingers were quickly becoming numb with cold.

"Oh please, Severus…you can't leave me now…I need you so badly," she sobbed as she continued cleaning him. "Please wake up. Please…I…I have to tell you something and now I'm so afraid that it is too late."

She tore another strip off of the nightgown and tied it around his waist so that it applied some pressure on the open wound in his side. It was not easy for her to maneuver the taller man but desperation and the sheer adrenaline of panic gave her a strength she would have otherwise lacked.

"Severus…please…you have to wake up. I have to tell you…I have to let you know…oh please…don't leave me," she began to cry again as she suddenly rested her head on his chest, clutching compulsively at the material of his clothing. 

For a moment, her throat felt too tight for words…too painful for sound. 

"I love you," she whispered softly.

A sudden touch startled her and she looked up. Severus' eyes were fluttering slightly but he was rapidly regaining consciousness. Grimacing in pain, he tried to sit up but could not. Hermione helped him to a semi-sitting position but it was clear the wound was hurting him badly.

Hermione could not speak…she felt as if Christmas had come early. Her heart was practically dancing. He was alive.

Severus looked at her in utter disbelief. Had he heard those words…or had he imagined them?

__

"I'll make her forget how much she loves you."

Severus raised his hand to touch her cheek softly; running his thumb over her lips in a caress that could not be interpreted as one of chaste friendship.

It was time for truth…and the biggest risk of all.

"Hermione…I…for the longest time…I have hoped. I mean, I have always admired and respected you…your strength…your wisdom…your depth of compassion. You…have so many qualities that…I had never thought…important…until I met you…knew you. The real you. I hardly dared think…had no reason to expect…"

"Expect what, Severus?"

He took a deep breath. "Expect that you might feel for me what I feel for you."

She was trembling…but not from the cold…and the light shining from her eyes warmed Severus and gave him courage.

"And what do you feel for me, Severus?"

"I love you."

Her breath caught for a moment and her hand touched her mouth in startled, happy surprise.

"I love you, Severus," she said quietly, moving her hand to caress his hair.

He held his arms out to her and she carefully embraced him, mindful of his injury. Severus did not care in the slightest. She loved him. She really loved him. What could be better than that?

"Hermione?"

She looked up at him and smiled. He cupped her cheek with one hand and leaned down to kiss her…a soft and warm joining of lips that was simply wondrous. It was all he wanted…to hold her in his arms…nothing else mattered.

Nothing else came close to this bliss…this sense of finding something so precious…so perfect. He had been blind to what had been in front of his eyes all this time. It was time to make amends for that grievous error.

They did not notice when a golden glow began to emanate from their bodies, engulfing them in a shimmering light…nor did they notice when their surroundings began to blur…images becoming cloudy…whispery.

They did not even notice when they disappeared entirely…

But Bertha Rochester noticed and, looking out her small window, she smiled.

…and Albus Dumbledore certainly noticed when they reappeared in his office, still kissing and holding onto one another tightly. 

Although, to his credit, he left as quickly and quietly as he could…and the oblivious couple never noticed that he had been there…or when he left…


	13. Epilogue

**_Disclaimer_**_:  Anything you recognize belongs to either JKR or Charlotte Bronte.  The plot belongs to me.  Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed this little story.  I'm glad you have enjoyed it._

Epilogue 

"Reader, I married him…"

It was late summer…a time of year most conducive to picnics.  Severus, however, had long since abandoned any notion of eating.  He was lying on his back, his head nestled comfortably in Hermione's lap.  She was reading from the book that had started it all, one hand holding the book and the other caressing his hair in a scene of true bucolic bliss.

Severus had been listening to her voice with his eyes closed and felt more at peace with himself and the world in general than he had for a very long time.  It had been many months since their return to their own world and there had not been the hurdles to cross that they had feared.  Even Sirius, after the initial obligatory tantrum, was able to acknowledge that Hermione had regained some of her sparkle and was immensely thankful for that. Remus simply smiled knowingly…something Severus found quite unnerving.

Harry had also been very accepting…surprisingly so.  In the young man's mind, the most important thing in the world was happiness and, if his best friend was happy, that was good enough for him.  For some reason, which Severus could not explain, it seemed that Harry had expected this to happen.   Another shining example of Gryffindor presumptuousness…although Severus could not be overly irritated by it.  A simple raise of the eyebrows had been the only response given to Harry's mischievous grin.

Yes, Harry was certainly hiding something.   Severus thought it a pity that he could no longer take points from Gryffindor for the young wizard's cheek.

Hermione had even paid a short visit to the cemetery…she had to tell Ron in her own way…somehow it could not be right if her other best friend were left out.  Severus had accompanied her and they had stood there silently before the headstone…saying nothing but feeling everything.  Ron might not have liked it initially…he probably would have blown up over the whole thing, but even he would have understood in time.  Really, he had never been so very different from Harry…happiness was the most important thing…and there had been so little to be happy about.

Draco Malfoy did eventually regain his sanity (thanks to a potion Hermione had developed to finally restore Neville's parents' sanity) only to be sentenced for using the Libris curse and administered the Dementor's Kiss.  Severus and Hermione had been asked to participate as witnesses but had declined.  Sirius and Harry had gone in their place instead.  As Severus had said, despite his earlier feelings of revenge, he had no wish to witness the destruction of the last member of a wizarding family that had once been the epitome of honour.  He was pleased that the Ministry of Justice had seen fit to sell all the Malfoy assets and distribute them to families who had lost loved ones during the war…especially the Weasley family.  It felt that some sort of justice had been served.

Cornelius Fudge, disgraced beyond any hope, was summarily dismissed and left the country to live as little more than an exile.  Hermione, for one, was not sad to see him go.  Severus was not nearly so charitable…complaining loudly that he ought to have had his wand snapped in half…along with a couple of limbs.

Even teaching had become something of a surprising passion for Severus.  While he still maintained strict discipline in his classroom…he had become more equitable when it came to taking points from Gryffindors although it would have been a bit of a stretch to say that he didn't still favour the Slytherins to some small degree.  

Ah yes, old habits certainly died hard.

Severus found himself thinking about the past school year and how different it had been for him.  Having Hermione with him…well, in a matter of speaking, had transformed him although he didn't see it himself so much as heard it from other people.

_"Really,"_ he smirked, " _I wasn't as bad as all that."_

But, in his heart of hearts, he knew that his reputation had been well earned through years of lurking in the dungeons and robes that billowed dramatically with every step he took.  All to inspire terror in the heart of a hapless first year.  But, as with many other things that had concerned the Potions Master, it had all been a façade.  It was time to take off the mask he had been wearing, in a matter of speaking, and resume the task of living in a world that did not hold the specter of a maniacal evil like Voldemort.

A world where anything was possible…even his own happiness.

He could only hope that someday he would be regarded by the students with the same affection as Minerva who was also strict but felt to be eminently fair.

Hermione?  Well, she had always loved teaching and it had showed early on.  Severus had, on occasion, listened outside her classroom and had chuckled silently to himself over the eagerness with which she answered questions from her students.  He could almost imagine her raising her hand eagerly as she did when she was a student herself.  She had always known the right answer and never lost that enthusiasm…that drive…that thirst for that elusive bit of knowledge that was just around the next bend…in the next book…the next paragraph.

He opened his eyes and smiled.  Yes, life was indeed good…better than he could have expected.  He was in love with someone who loved him back.  Astonishing, really…something he had never thought possible.  And yet, here she was, with him.

But it was not enough…not for him.  He had discovered, some weeks ago, that he wanted more…and that had startled him.

He reached up and pulled her hand down from his hair and kissed it softly.  He smirked when she continued reading…although he noticed the slightest catch in her voice.  He took something from his other hand and slipped it onto her finger.

She did stop reading at that and looked down curiously.

"Severus…what are you…"

And stopped.  She looked at her hand in amazement.

"I believe it's called an engagement ring," he smirked.  "From what I have been told, it is a compulsory requirement when proposing marriage."

"Marriage!?"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't be at all adverse to the idea of simply living together…but one must think of one's…descendants," he drawled impressively, wincing as Hermione hit him on the head with her book.

"Severus Snape…that is the single most unromantic marriage proposal I have ever heard," she exclaimed, trying to look displeased but failing miserably.

"I have never been very good at waxing romantic…reminds me a little too much of Lockhart and many pink hearts floating around," Severus rubbed his head in mock pain.  

"I wouldn't want you to be something you are not, you know," Hermione said seriously, admiring the ring and blushing.  "And I never expected that you would become a completely different person just to keep my interest…I rather like you just the way you are…unromantic, sensible, intelligent…"

"You've forgotten reasonably attractive, passionate and very intelligent…"

"Typical Slytherin arrogance, you overgrown bat," she giggled as he sat up to face her.

"Typical Gryffindor presumptuousness, you chatty know-it-all," he murmured, touching her lips softly with his fingers.

"And they say that romance is dead.  Look at us, Severus…it's as if we were conducting a proposal to audit parchment dimensions in the Ministry of Magic," Hermione's eyes shone with affection as his hand moved to her hair, twirling it around his fingers.

"You know how I feel about you, Hermione…why is it necessary to put so many words around it?  Would it make my feelings more real somehow if I expounded ad nauseum on your many virtues?  You know that I love you more than anything.  You know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  Is that not enough?"

She looked at him and smiled.   She knew he was baiting her.  A Bronte-esque lifestyle was certainly nice to read about but there was something in the solid, practical reality that defined Severus Snape that was so much more fulfilling.  Fluff was highly over-rated and feelings were better expressed through sincere actions as opposed to flowery words. 

"A kiss would be nice…just to seal the deal, of course," she said with a decidedly wry smirk.

Chuckling, Severus drew her into his arms and kissed her deeply, marveling, as he always did, at how right she felt against him.

"I suppose that makes it official," she whispered against his lips, feeling him smile.

"I think I rather like making it official," he murmured before kissing her all over again.

_A/N:_

_Well, I will be taking a little break but will be back soon.  I have some revising to do of existing stories (including this one) but I plan to come out with a new chaptered Severus/Hermione story very soon.  I even have a beta reader (thanks Sharte)._

_Thanks for your support and hope you enjoyed the story._


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